Impossible Realities
by Fanwright
Summary: Azula, Sokka, and the alternate worlds spanning dimensions and time, in which they were meant for better things. / Sokkla Miscellany Collection / AU prompts, drabbles, one-shots / Sokkla.
1. Ghosts - Full Metal Alchemist

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Full Metal Alchemist. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Ghosts -**

* * *

Resenbool never struck Azula as a particularly significant place.

As far as her eyes could see the rolling hills stretched out in all directions like a vast green sea, the tall grasses swaying gently in the spring sun, trees rustling in the breeze. She could almost pretend like the war never touched this place, if it weren't for the occasional crater the farmers in the area worked their fields around.

The parking brake groaned as she pulled the lever up, killing the engine with the turn of a key as the harsh metallic chatter of the pistons ceased. As Azula opened the door to her automobile she could hear bells clatter in the distance as a lone shepherd hurried his flock along, sheep baying as they trotted away.

Quaint living. Everything seemed so green. Hardly tarnished. The sands of Ishval seemed so far away, distant as a half-remembered dream.

Azula sighed, breathing in the air as her gaze settled upon the portly old shepherd, the past echoing through her. If only she could truly forget.

She didn't miss the look in the old man's eyes as he quickly turned away, waddling behind his flock. Disgust, fear, hatred, it didn't matter. It was all the same to her. She wasn't welcomed by most in Resenbool, but they would, under penalty of imprisonment or death, tolerate her presence. State Alchemists were, after all, backed by the power of the central government. She was living weapon, ready to be unchained and let loose upon Amestria's enemies.

Just as she was let loose in Ishval all those years ago.

Her boots crunched against the dirt path up to the small, run down cottage. Azula stopped in front of the door, just shy of knocking on the wood. Her automotive arm shook, joints grinding and chinking against steel plating. Little electrical pulses coursed through the wiring as her eye twitched painfully, grinding her teeth slowly as faces of the dead flashed through her mind.

She reigned herself in, pinching her eyes shut, clutching her metallic arm as she breathed through her nose, fighting the pain.

A tune-up. She just needed a tune up. Faulty wiring. That was the problem. A quick fix, and she was fit to go.

Her voice trembled for moment.

"Don't break."

Looking up, she opened her eyes to the sun shining above. Listening to the trees sway in the wind, she took a deep breath, swiftly matted out the creases in her royal blue uniform, straightened her garrison cap, and in one decisive motion tapped her metal fingers against the door.

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

With a light grunt and a final turn of the screwdriver, Sokka tightened the last of the steel forearm plates.

"Okay," he said, wiping the sweat off his nose, "that ought to do it. Try it out and move it around a bit."

Azula swiftly spat out the piece of thick rubber she bit down on, getting up from her seat beside the workbench. Wiping the sweat trickling down her forehead, she smoothed the creases in her tank top.

She huffed, "Finally."

Sokka narrowed his eyes, "'Finally'? You can't rush this stuff you know."

Rolling her shoulders, she stretched out the steel prosthetic, mechanical fingers grasping at the air, "You take your time while I sit in pain."

He rolled his eyes, folding his arms, "You won't take the anesthetic. I keep telling you there's no shame in it. Just because you've got wires in that arm doesn't mean you can't feel anything. You know how careful I have to be installing that arm?"

A pause. She stiffened her back and her metallic fingers ceased to move.

She turns to him with a sharp glare, "I'm aware."

Sighing, Sokka threw his hands up, mimicking surrender, "Fine, whatever, you're the state alchemist, you _obviously_ know more about the fine arts of mechanical engineering and surgical medicine than the guy who _practices_ both."

Boot's shifted against the worn floorboards as Azula took a stance, jabbing her mechanical arm at the air. Again she did it, falling into a practiced rhythm, testing for any tension in the joints, wary for any rogue electrical spark that might throw her off balance.

It was smooth and effortless, as if the arm she lost during the war was never blown off. He certainly had the touch.

"Lucky for you I didn't have to do a complete overhaul," Sokka said, rising from his seat, listening for squeaks or screeches in the joints, "Wires in the bicep and joint connecting it to the pneumatic actuator were worn out, so it was just a matter of replacing and hooking them back up to your nervous system."

Folding his arms, he leaned against a wall and watched Azula deliver an uppercut to an invisible foe. She was sweating again, flaring her nostrils with each jab.

He smirked, practically talking to himself, "And then a routine oiling, a bit of polishing here and there. Oh, and I did have to replace the steel plating near the shoulder joint with something lighter. Just so happened to have some new aluminum alloy plates lying around. Figure that would take some stress off the ball bearings in the shoulder joint."

She stopped abruptly, looking at him through narrowed eyes, "Yes. It feels… _different_."

"It should. I mean, the plates are from an M1911F model, but the good thing about that line is that you can practically jury-rig it to the earlier M1910 series models without anyone being the wiser."

"Hm. Very resourceful of you."

Sokka covered his mouth, feigning coquettishness, "Oh, _stop it_ , you! You're going to make me _blush_."

She rolled her eyes, groaning, "Your sarcasm is as grating as ever."

"I consider it a healthy sense of humor myself," he said, lifting himself from the wall as he strolled into the kitchen the next room over, "I fix up people's limbs for a living now, Azula, its messy work. Gotta laugh about something now and then!"

Leaving her to freshen up and put on her coat, Sokka browsed the cupboards for a few clean drinking glasses. He hardly had any and most of the dishes were in the sink, still dirty from the night before. Sighing, he took two from the top of the stack of dirty plates, slung a nearby dishrag over his shoulder, and rinsed out the glasses with some soap. Satisfied, he dried them off and set them on the nearby table.

As he was rummaging through the cupboards again he heard Azula's heavy footsteps against the creaking floorboards, taking her seat at one of the chairs near the small table.

"Hang on, I'll find it," he said, pushing aside cups and dishes, "Its here somewhere…"

He could feel her eyes on his back, judging him, "Don't you remember where it is?"

"Sometimes? I mean I like to switch it up from time to time, just to throw off any cops that might search my place. Ishval Whiskey is rare and illegal here. Resenbool is in a dry county after all."

"That's stupid, just keep it in a place you will remember."

He looked back at her, "I _do_ remember where it is… I think."

She shook her head derisively, "Ugh. Idiot. Its in the last cupboard on the right."

Quirking and eyebrow, Sokka slowly made his way to the cupboard she specified. Rummaging through it and looking toward the back, sure enough, he found what he was looking for.

He blinked, "Oh. There it is."

Azula merely inspected the metal digits on her automotive hand, causally clinking them together, "I _told_ you so."

"How did you know?"

"Because when I was here last week, you got a little too drunk. I set you on your bed and put the bottle there."

He searched his memory, tilting his head to the side, "Ah. Right."

"Indeed."

Gently, she took hold of a nearby glass, teetering it from side to side, "Now lets have that drink shall we? I'm parched."

Blinking, Sokka shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the dark blue bottle of whiskey from behind the stack of plates.

"I'll get the snacks then."

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

The sun had set over the horizon and the stars began glinting in the night sky just outside the cottage window. Candlelights caught in the empty whiskey bottle. The cheese and crackers long since devoured. Time had slipped away, the waning hours filled with drinks, stories, and laughter.

As the kitchen grew dim, the last light of the sun snuffed out over the hills, Sokka was content to share the silence with Azula.

His finger traced a circle over the rim of his empty glass, his mind swimming in warm bliss, frogs croaking outside his window. Not a bad way to spend an evening, he supposed.

The chair Azula sat in creaked as she leaned back against it. She idly searched the pockets of her military coat and pulled out her silver pocket watch, flipping the lid open and checking the time. Even in the dim light Sokka could still make out the pentagram - the _emblem_ \- of the Amestrian state alchemists carved over the surface.

She sighed as she tossed the watch on the table, her voice alien and harsh, eyes glued to the half-empty glass in front of her.

"Do you remember it? Ishval?"

Sokka blinked, puzzled by her tone. She reached out and gently traced her metal fingers over the emblem on the watch.

"I… try not to. Its hard sometimes," he said, clearing is throat.

She slowly nodded her head, "It keeps you up at night, doesn't it?"

He winced at her words, lips tightly pursed, "Volunteers like me had it rough too, Azula."

"No doubt. Eight years of bloody attrition."

"And eight years of dying. Fuck. If I'd had known what I signed up for I wouldn't have joined the state army. I don't know how a damn fool like me made through."

She chuckled, without a hint of cheer, running her hands through her neatly combed hair, "Of course you don't. A little man like you hunched in a ditch, clutching his rifle, against the _fanatical_ Ishvalans hordes. I bet you and your friends _cheered_ as we alchemists came in and cut them all down for you."

His chest tightened painfully and a cold shiver snaked up his spine. The smell of cordite from spent shells thick in his nose, the course white sand blinding him, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue.

The sizzle and pop of burning flesh consumed by azure flames.

Sokka's eyes darted to the empty whiskey bottle, yearning for another drink. He looked to Azula instead, her gaze leveled at him, "… some of us did."

Azula scoffed, "Perhaps. Did _you_?"

He gulped hard, as if trying to swallow a rock lodged in his throat, "I don't remember really. Too busy keeping my head down or-"

 _The bone caved in as he bashed the bastard's head in with the butt of his rifle, the sand turning red. Again and again and again and again and-_

"-trying to survive."

Sokka started to rub his hands together, feeling cold. He could still feel how his sweaty palms clenched the rifle, how the man squirmed under him, grasping at his uniform.

"You did what you had to do," she heard him say.

He turned to the alchemist. Her eyes were still fixed on the silver pocket watch, her metal fingers resting over the smooth surface.

"Was that all though? Just… following orders? Kill them all before they kill us?"

She fixed him with glare through narrowed eyes, "Orders. _Hmph_. Orders are what got us stuck in that quagmire in the first place. Command sends recruits into the most barren place in Amestria over a few scuffles, thinking firepower and numbers will win the day, and then they send in the state alchemists to fix their stupid mistake."

Her mechanical fingers tightened over the pocket watch. Sokka's eyes widened as the silver metal buckled under the pressure. He could hear the glass breaking and the little gears grind to a halt.

She spoke through gritted teeth, "And to fight _what,_ Sokka? To kill _what_? A rabble of fucking _civilians_?"

He stared off into the shadows of the kitchen, trying to make sense of it all, looking for an answer, "I… I-I don't-"

 _He leveled his sights on her as she clutched her father's arm tightly, the old man's head covered in bandages, both their faces pressed against the stone wall._

 _God. No._

 _She looked like Katara._

" _Aim!"_

" _For god sake, why!? Kill me, not them! I shot your friend, why should the rest die!"_

 _His insides churned. The oldman's voice rang in his ears. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to-_

" _Fire!"_

He choked on a single word, "… yes."

And then it hit him. It hit him as hard as the bullet he put in the girl's head. He felt sick all over again.

Sokka turned to Azula, "That's exactly what we did. And now there's nothing left of Ishval."

Her eyes seared his soul, wrath drenched in grief. She started breathing through her nose and fixed a menacing glare on him.

Without warning, she shot up from her seat, teeth clenched, the silver pocket watch clutched in her automotive hand, ready to throw it at him. He jumped from his chair as he shielded his face, falling to the floor, glasses cracking against the wood as they fell.

He expected fire to conjure from her hand at the flick of her wrist. She could do it easily - the transmutation circle etched into her glove allowed her to conjure flames at her leisure. He had seen so many die that way, a trail of ash and bone left in her wake, blue cinders carrying on the wind.

But there was nothing. No fire, no smoke, no seared flesh. Only the sound of steel splintering wood as the table shattered to pieces under Azula's ferocious strength. Her eyes desperately searched the dim room, looking for a way out of the dark. She ambled about, finally collapsing to her knees, the drinks taking their toll on her. Gears and shards of silver fell through her steel fingers as she buried her face in her palms.

Sokka could barely hear Azula's voice as her shoulders bucked violently, her body slouched forward, "Are… a-are we monsters?"

He stared, unable to answer. His eyes stung and her words began to sink in.

"Murderers? W-Were-," she tried feebly to rein herself in, "Were we soldiers or exterminators, Sokka?"

In the dimness of the kitchen he could barely make out her form. Fighting back a painful headache as his vision blurred, he slowly got up and stumbled his way toward Azula, feet shuffling passed shards of glass.

He tried to speak, "I… want to believe we were soldiers, Azula."

 _With one swift motion and a hard pull, his father ripped the medal from his uniform and threw it to the floor. The flimsy bronze metal bent and the colorful ribbon was rend from the pin._

 _For bravery - for mowing down dozens with a maxim gun in a single afternoon._

 _Katara held her mother as they looked on, their faces hard and unkind._

" _Get out! I won't have a murderer in this house!"_

" _Dad, wait, just let me-"_

" _I said get out!"_

Kneeling down beside her, he wrapped his arms around her body, face nuzzled into the nape of her neck, "But it's hard to pretend we were. We can't keep lying."

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he pulled her in close. She was so warm and he felt so cold. The war only ever drained him of his strength, even after it was over, and it was a struggle just to keep it from his mind. He felt so selfish as he held her tight. He didn't want to let go.

His eyes widened as Azula's arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel her tears trickle down and touch his cheeks, her metal hand grasping tightly at the back of his head, the last pieces of the pocket watch falling between her fingers. She couldn't hold back anymore. All he could do was hold her, knowing it was just a futile gesture.

Time slowly passed away as the silence of the night crept by. He stayed like that with her, but for how long he didn't know. He just held her until the tears dried, until his grip around her waist slackened and their breathing calmed, the war heavy in their hearts.

Her voice was slow and measured, "I can still hear it. At night, when the crickets finally sleep."

Sokka's hand went to her head, gently running his fingers through her hair.

She breathed in his scent and stared off into the darkness, "Howitzers when they shake the ground, bullets when they pass over your head. That horrendous, deafening noise when the maxim guns open up. It just won't _leave_."

His eyes twitched at the memory and he sighed into her hair. He could still feel the vibration of the gun, how it shook him to the bone like a buzz saw through wood, how the muzzle flashes blinded him just before he tore men in half.

She continued, "… There was this platoon trapped in the heart of the Old City. I remember passing you by when we took the minaret over looking El Zeyd Square. You waved at me."

"… I remember. You didn't wave back."

"They we're pinned down. Going to be overrun. A runner from the platoon managed to get through. Said they needed a state alchemist. I rushed there as fast as I could."

Sokka closed his eyes, rubbing her head, remembering the sun baked ruins of the Old City.

"Runner took a bullet as we rushed down an alley. Died before he hit the ground. Didn't even hear where the shot came from with all the noise. I just kept running. I knew I was close."

She paused, her body tensing up.

"Azula?" he asked.

"… I rushed into a building, choking on dust. Started to…" she gulped, clearing her throat, "to clear out the rooms. I could hear them, the Ishvalans, on the next floor above me."

Another pause. Sokka didn't press her.

She soldered on regardless, "… They never saw me coming. Room by room, I burned them out. I didn't stop, not even when I choked on the smoke. I just kept going, kept burning everything I saw. I can't even remember how many I killed. Its all just a blur."

His hands started to shake as a cold shiver coursed through him. The Azure Flame Alchemist. That's what they called her. A walking, breathing flame-thrower.

"And in those flames I…" she stuttered, choking on her words, "I saw him. A little boy with glasses. Dancing. And screaming. Fire _consuming_ him. Family burning up as he tried to escape."

Sokka's eyes widened. Her voice trembled as she continued, "He… rushed out of the room. Tackled me. I kicked him off with my boot and he… he hit his little head on the wall and started squirming. Crying…"

She buried her head in in the crook of his neck. Sokka could feel warm tears trickle down his skin.

"Tried to put him out. Made a special transmutation circle on the floor as quick as I could. Made some water for him. He just… he just wouldn't stop crying."

Azula's arms recoiled from around his neck as her automotive hand started to shake violently. She slowly rung her hands, as if trying to wipe some stain off of them.

"I tried to drag him away. His little shirt crumbled to ash. His flesh just…" she shook her head, "… just _peeled_ off. Could feel his bones in the palm of my hands as I lifted him up."

Her voice cracked as she sniffed through her nose, "I ran with him in my arms. Left the platoon to die. Took him all the way back to our lines to a bivouac. He screamed the entire way. I laid him down in front of a medic, threatened him. Told him to save the kid."

She ran her palms over her face and breathed, rage in place of sorrow, "… he didn't even look at him. He just… called over a soldier and told him to 'do it'. And he ended the boy. With one, two bashes to his head, right in front of me."

She looked at Sokka, searching for answers he couldn't give, "I never did that again. I couldn't. So I followed orders. I made sure my kills were quick. Clean. That boy is my nightmare, Sokka. Reminds me that I'm a monster."

Her eyes were heavy and her head lolled from sheer exhaustion.

Azula looked away, "I'm so tired. So fucking tired. I just want a night where I don't see him."

Without thinking, with no words to reassure her, fatigue making him groggy, Sokka merely kissed her forehead. She barely registered the gesture.

"Stay here tonight. Got a spare cot," he said, helping her up as he lifted off the floor.

Nodding, she staggered through the dark out of the kitchen door, turning the corner down a short hallway, Sokka close behind. She struggled to turn the door handle, cursing under her breath as it finally opened.

He felt there was something he could have said, something to tell her that everything would be all right, that she wasn't alone. His head began to swim, the whiskey playing hell on his thoughts, and the words just wouldn't come out. It was a struggle just to stand straight.

As she entered the spare room, he bit his lower lip, desperately trying to say something.

But what could he say? How could he possibly help Azula if the same demons haunted his every thought? She wouldn't believe him.

He slurred the only words he could think of, "G'night."

Yet, just as he turned away, Sokka heard her call out to him.

"Stay."

He pinched his eyes shut. He didn't know what came over him. He just knew that a warm body beside him would make the cold nights a little bearable for a change. Keep the nightmares away. He felt so empty sleeping alone.

When he entered the room and closed the door Azula was already on the cot, her back toward him as she slept facing the wall. She didn't bother taking off her boots or her uniform. That suited him fine. As he lay down beside her he left his clothes on as well. He was too tired to even unbutton his shirt.

As he wrapped an arm around her waist she scooted in and arched her back to the curve of his chest, metallic fingers gliding across his forearm. They were surprisingly tender. He nuzzled his head in the nape of her neck, lips on her skin, arms holding her tight.

It was deep into the night before Sokka fell asleep. He listened to Azula softly breathe, fatigue finally claiming her, steel fingers twitching now and again against his arm. Her words still rang in his thoughts, keeping him awake.

 _Are we monsters?_

He feared the answer. There was blood on his hands, on her hands, and nothing could wipe away the stains.

He fell asleep, silently praying for an answer, hoping for a way to take it all back, to anyone above who would listen.

The last thing he heard was a lone cricket's reply.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hey, hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to read more Sokkla stories, then please check out Clarielparke, Purpleplatypusbear21, Focusas, LordStone and Seyary-Minamoto for more enjoyable Sokkla stories!

See you with the next installment!


	2. Time Machine - Back to the Future

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Back to the Future. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Time Machine -**

* * *

Liunaq froze, hands trembling as she clasped the handle of the door.

She had made it this far disguised as a maid and the old splendor of the of the Royal Palace Heritage Museum was truly a sight to behold.

Or rather the Royal Palace, as the people of this time period often referred it as, seeing as it was still in use.

Without the hordes of tourists, smiling guides, and flashing camera bulbs, the palace seemed almost empty by comparison, with occasional servant and guard patrol walking the halls. All those secret passages the books and guides talked about came in handy and the guards were surprisingly relaxed in their vigilance.

All that confidence she felt after infiltrating the old palace, to see what it was really like in its heyday, completely evaporated.

She didn't even recognize their voices at first. They were so young and full of pent-up frustration. She could've sworn one of voices cracked just from the yelling. Playing the part of a maid only made it easier for her to blend in, so it was only natural to act like she was checking up on the residents of the palace. That's what she thought maids did anyway.

But seeing them turn their eyes toward her, cut off amid a heated argument, Liunaq could've sworn she felt the very blood in her veins freeze over. A snow shrew caught by a spotted leopard.

Spirits beyond, they were so young. She knew she had gone back far in time, but this was inconceivable. She wasn't even expecting them to be here. Perhaps she turned the dials wrong on the switchboard or cranked out the numbers incorrectly pulling the dozen or so levers to set the appropriate date in time. They were always so stiff, so hard to pull, she had meant to fix that.

But this? Just a few short years after the war, with _them_ in this very room? Had her precious machine somehow malfunctioned during the warp-slip back through time? Did she make a miscalculation? How the-

"And who do you think you are barging in here like that!? Witless woman!"

The imperious remark, the indignation in her tone, the sharp delivery that cut straight to the jugular, that black hair so immaculately combed, those burning eyes she shared with her, a look as deadly as a fire breathing dragon. No, there could be no mistake.

It was Mom.

"Oh yeah, sure, take your anger out on the servant just making her rounds cleaning up your home. Real mature, Azula!"

Oh spirits no. That sarcasm, the awkward way his hands would fly over his head whenever he was so passionate about something, those proud blue eyes that had the utmost confidence in whatever endeavor she pursued.

It was Dad.

"Peasant! I will incinerate you and throw your ashes to the wind if you don't shut up!"

"Why do you keep telling to shut up all the time!?"

"Because if I had to answer every infernal question your idiot brain could field I'd be stuck in this cell of a room for an eternity!"

Liunaq, against all logic, against all fear she had of sending devastating ripples through time, despite every theory she could possibly conjure up that told her not to do what she was about to do, took a chance.

She gulped hard, and feared for the future, "My lady! My lord!"

They both looked to her, shock twisting their faces.

Blinking, completely frozen, Liunaq was back at their penthouse in Republic City, her little hand opening the door to their room as she held her stuffed polar dog, their eyes glowing with passion in the dim light, caught in the act amid tender embraces.

 _Mom. Dad. Please stop that._

Her eyes darted from one to the other as she hastily immersed herself into her role, "… while I am sure the subject of your current, uh… _discussion_ is no doubt pressing, perhaps it would be wise to keep the passion in your voices contained. Someone may here you."

 _The thunder is scaring me and I want a hug. Please stop being weird._

The tension slowly eased from their bodies, her mom flashing her dad with a searing gaze. He just rolled his eyes as he walked away.

Suddenly, Liunaq felt she was the parent for a change.

"Crazy princess," uttered Dad, making his way passed her as he stormed out of the room.

"Filthy peasant," Mom muttered under breath, striding passed her to turn the opposite direction.

Liunaq's skinned crawled uncomfortably. She had heard those phrases uttered in more lustrous tones through thin walls a little too often.

Before she could even sigh, her Mom called out to her.

"Servant! When you are done dusting the furniture, I want a new carpet laid out on the floor by the time I return. I grow tired of looking upon that hideous rag. See to it!"

Liunaq's back straightened, stiff as a soldier, "Yes! O-Of course-"

 _Mom._

She bit her lower lip, catching the word before it escaped, "-Your Highness!"

The footsteps down the marbled halls faded. And just like that, decades back in time, with the pull of a lever and the turn of a dial, Liunaq was a little kid again, cleaning another room as if it was her own, and groaning just the same.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hope you enjoyed that little itty-bitty touch of steampunk. I decided to go for an H.G. Wells approach here rather than sticking to Back to the Future, but I attempted to keep the concept of time travel in it regardless.

If you'd like to read more Sokkla stories, please check out LordStone's completed story "Opposite Elements". You won't regret it!

See you next for the latest installment!


	3. Remnant - Mad Max

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Mad Max. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Wanderlust -**

* * *

Salt and sand, the ruins of a great city swallowed by the dunes, a distant, shimmering mirage roasting under the merciless sun, a world of steel and blood quenched in the fires of Armageddon.

Azula looked far across the hell-blasted lands, searching futilely for anything worth the trouble of traveling to.

"' _Where must we go, we who wander this wasteland searching for our better selves?'_ "

Breathing out smoke through his nose as he threw the cigarette stub into the sand, Sokka turned to her, a song ringing in his head.

"' _Oh, where the water is freshest, the ground the greenest, the shade the shadiest, the air the coolest…'_ "

She scoffed, "The world is dead, Sokka. The men of Way Back killed it. You hope for too much."

"Hope? All I hope for is some anti-seed for my lil' pinkie here," he tapped the sawed-off shotgun holstered at his side, "So's I can squeeze her off a raunchy few times and watch something die. Save lots for the _schlangers_ … and one for me, so Big Bad Death can go fuck itself."

"Optimistic, as usual. Not enough lead in the world for that fine luxury."

"Opti-what now? You stand tall 'cause a your big words book reading, don't you?"

"Of course, love, it comes naturally," she said, eyes glued to the dusty horizon, "Too many klicks… too many klicks in all directions. And sand, always sand."

"And click-clak, click-clak, whiz-bang goes our rusty little buggy. She's good for a long jog, but she'll gag on the dust."

"You'll rez her. If you were a war-boy, love, their god, V8, would have blessed you with the digits to breathe life into her again."

A toothy grin and chuckle, "Just a few persuasive turns here n' there, bolts into nuts n' what not, and she's growlin' like a proper beast."

She smiled, "So we fang it then. Head west where the sun sleeps. Follow the Black Roads and past the Plains of Salt. We have guzzoline for days."

"Paints a pretty target for Rust Buzzards, don't it?"

"And so? I'll fight against anyone that thinks to fuck us over. Death will stay its hand and envy at my bloody work."

Sokka chuckled, "Oh, Mamzel Death. What a lovely red day that will be."

He looked west, seeing the dust clouds and thunder growl in the distance, "We'll do it then?"

"Of course! We won't get a better chance..." she said, voice growing distant.

He looked to her, "At what?"

She paused, choosing her words before she could look at him, determination in her eyes.

"Redemption."

* * *

 **A/N:**

A short one, mostly focusing on dialogue. Mad Max has a certain post-apochalyptic vernacular that's hard to miss.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! See you in the next installment!


	4. Drabble Collection - I

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenges from Tumblr - Lord of the Rings, The Fugitive, The Hunt for Red October, The Whole Nine Yards, respectively. All requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **I**

* * *

As the armorers that tended to her tighten the straps to her gauntlets and greaves she locked her eyes on him.

"There was a saying I learned long ago, those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."

With one last tug the men stepped away to see to their other duties, one handing her a sword, which she hastily girt around her waist. Tightening the last strap on his gauntlet Sokka watched her, fascinated and puzzled.

His words were measured, "What _do_ you fear, Azula?"

She paused, contemplating her life, from the day she first gripped a sword to this very moment, armed for war and caressed by steel.

"A cage," she said, "To live behind bars. To see the seasons pass and feel my bones wither beneath my skin, until all chance of valor is gone beyond recall or desire."

Sokka lifted his head. There was truth in her eyes, in her words. Even he didn't want to fade away into history.

"You're a warrior," he said, "If there is anything I've learned, your fate is what you make it. If valor on the battlefield is what you want, then take it. Its _yours_."

Her back straightened and with resurgent pride she made his way to him, clasping his shoulder, "I will."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **II**

* * *

Exasperated, Azula limped her way across the sand toward her captor, the desert sun beating down over her head. It burned her exposed pale skin and the metal cuffs dug into her wrists with every painful step she made across the sand.

"What the hell are you doing now, Sokka?" she demanded.

Hunched over the mangled remains of his latest flying contraption he looked up at her through narrowed eyes, his faced caked in layers of dust and oil.

"I'm _thinking_ how to get us out of this desert,what does it look like I'm doing?" he said.

"Well, think me up a canteen filled with fresh water while you're at it, you drooling ignoramus, I'm thirsty."

He rolled his eyes. Perhaps the bounty on her head wasn't worth it after all.

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **III**

* * *

Her words were few yet measured, slow, so that he could understand her, almost challenging him to speak, booming through the sparse command deck.

"Ты говоришь по-русски."

 _You speak Russian._

A small laugh escaped him, a question that was more a statement, and his head rose to meet her steady gaze, pondering his next words.

"… Маленький. Целесообразно изучать пути своего противника. Вы не думаете?"

 _A little. It is wise to study the ways of one's adversary. Don't you think_?

She quirked an eyebrow and her lips curled into an amused, almost interested smile.

"It is."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **IV**

* * *

She sniffed the air between them, her enchanting eyes momentarily flinching at the putrid smell, her lips recoiling from his.

"Have you… _vomited_ recently?"

He swallowed his pride and any chance of an impression.

"…A minute ago, I, uh, I was just gonna go clean my teeth and rinse out my mouth."

A long, tense pause, her eyes and hand raking over the skin behind his un-buttoned tunic, until she finally gave a decisive shrug.

"I'll wait."

* * *

 **A/N:**

A small collection of the shorter prompts. The cyrillic is probably off and is just a rough translation of what is really being said, in hindsight probably unnecessary.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! See you in the next installment.


	5. Deep Space - Interstellar

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Interstellar. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Deep Space -**

* * *

The latches disconnected with a deafening clang as the hatch slid open.

Darkness greeted Azula, an eerie silence filling the tattered habitation unit. Only the flickering lights in the cramped hallway behind her lit her path, stumbling across a floor strewn with discarded food rations, broken parts, and outdated data slates.

Her breath caught on the plasti-glass helmet - the only sound she could here in the dark. A light ping rang in her headset and she looked to the environmental scanning unit mounted on her left forearm. She pressed a flashing button, an automated voice immediately reading out the analyzed data after scanning the room.

Cabin pressure stable. Oxygen levels nominal.

She turned her body to face the light at her back, her bulky suit and helmet making it impossible to turn her head. In the hallway loomed a rectangular, robotic mass - an old U.S. Marine Corps tactical frame. Looking to her arm mounted scanning unit, she downloaded the analyzed information and began transmitting it to the frame.

"SATO, are you getting this data? I need you to double check the numbers for me," she asked, her voice electronically filtered through a microphone unit installed into her helmet.

"Yeah boss, I'm getting your feed," it responded, "Place is a trash heap, but its stable. You should be able to breathe fine, if you don't mind the ice and cold air."

"Good. See about getting the lights back online. I saw a power box in the hall that should hook up to the rest of hab unit."

"Already on it, boss."

Azula turned her body around, the weight of the suit making her lean forward, straining her muscles.

Scanning the dark, she set her eyes on a set of dim, luminescent switches - the control panel to a bone-white hyper sleep chamber.

She grimaced, narrowing her eyes. It had always reminded her of a plexi-steel sarcophagus. The warm preservative juices that protected the user were like embalming fluid to her.

Stepping over loose tubing and frost covered debris she made her way over to the chamber. With a heavy-padded gloved hand she brushed away the ice that accumulated over the control panel, quickly looking upon the name card welded into the surface of the lid:

 _DR. AMARAQ, SOKKA W. - 18_

She then glanced over the numbers on the panel, checking if the vital signs were right. She gritted her teeth, her heart beating in her ears as her breath fogged up the glass in front of her.

She hissed. She could barely make out the data as it was, couldn't wait any longer.

Unclasping the seals connecting the gloves to her suit, Azula then reached her hands up to pry the latches off her helmet. It clanged against the debris littered floor as she threw it. The cold, recycled air sent a chill down her neck.

A generator droned to life as the lights flickered on, making it easier to see the instrumentation on the control panel. Condensation and ice cooled the tips of her fingers as she hastily pressed buttons to unlock the seal on the hyper sleep chamber. The connections to the electronic locks were still intact. The seals were free.

Reaching for the circular latch just above the control panel, Azula turned the worn-out handle as hard as her strength would allow. The plexi-steel lid sealing the chamber groaned as it slid open.

For a moment Azula just stared into the dim confines of the chamber. Her chest twisted in pain, heart thumping, eyes following the little streaks of steam as they rose out of the opening. Like dust in a sealed coffin blown into the air.

The dark water in the chamber stirred. A massive metal tray lifted above the surface, holding up a drenched body bag. She could barely make out the human lying motionless under the stained yellow plastic wrap, practically a corpse taken out of refrigeration in the basement of a morgue.

Cautiously, she moved to the side of the chamber where the body lay. The putrid smell of the preservation juices mixed with water caught in her throat. Compelled to gag on the taste, she fought back the urge and reached down to grasp the zipper at the top of the bag.

She pulled. The zipper snagged. Gritting her teeth, she yanked it down, ripping the plastic fabric, the body underneath it finally exposed.

God.

He looked so pale. Motionless. Hair matted down, his jumpsuit soaked. He should've woken up by now.

A minute passed. She held her hand over his mouth. She couldn't even feel the warmth of his breath.

Tension gripping her body, Azula leaned over the side and attempted to feel for a pulse. As she turned Sokka's head and lifted it out of the bag the water gushed through his teeth out from his mouth. He gasped and gagged as he desperately gulped down air.

Azula's eyes widened, taken off guard. She helped him sit up as best she could, his upper body stiff, crunched into a ball as he gasped with every breath he took.

She breathed out, relief washing over her. She thought she had lost him.

His eyes darted in every direction, his loose hair falling over his forehead, water trickling down from the strands. Azula brushed it away, making him look toward her. She could feel the warmth return to his skin as she cupped his cheek in her palm.

Would he even recognize her? He still looked as young as the day he left Earth and she had aged by nearly a decade.

He searched her face frantically, eyes widening. His chest heaved as he caressed her cheek, tears rolling down his face.

"Az… Azula?" he gasped.

She nodded her head, pressing her forehead to his, an arm wrapped around his neck.

"I'm here. I'm real."

He gripped the collar of her suit, a fist lightly pounding on her chest.

"Oh… oh fuck," he sobbed, tears running down his face, "You're here. You're really here."

He pulled her close, life slowly returning to him, and for the first time in years, having travelled across a dark and endless void, light years away from a dying Earth, Azula didn't feel so alone anymore.

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

It was less surreal than Azula imagined it to be. Old science-fiction magazines back on Earth presented the idea of gazing up into a starry night sky populated by several moons as something exotic, even romantic.

Yet, after staring into the dark abyss of a black hole, watching time distort space and matter as her crew ventured through the Saturn Worm Hole to the Pentagruel system, a peaceful night looking up at three crescent moons seemed tame by comparison.

A much welcomed reprieve regardless, which was made all the more rewarding as Sokka held her tightly to his chest, head resting on her shoulder.

He kissed her neck from time to time as they rested on the rust-red rocks overlooking the alien desert, the lights from their camp illuminating the dark around them. She was more than compelled to return the gesture, kissing him squarely on the lips, her hand tracing across his bruised knuckles.

He sighed contently, rubbing his arms around her waist for warmth. He had a curious habit of squeezing too tightly and she had to tap his hand to loosen his grip, which he reluctantly did.

"You are too fond of me," she stated.

He chuckled, kissing the back of her neck, "I hope you never learn how good it feels to see another face, Azula."

"For a scientist, you make hasty assumptions," she retorted, "I saw your face didn't I?"

He paused. She felt his smile on the small hairs on the back of her neck, and it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

His words were husky and measured, "Hah. Smooth."

She loved the way her body shivered at the sound of his voice.

She smirked, "Naturally."

He closed his eyes, resting his head on the opposite shoulder, his hands tracing up her forearms as she allowed him to play with her fingers.

There was a sense of urgency in his tone that she didn't fail to pick up, " _God_ , I fucking missed you."

"I can't imagine," she said, watching as he entwined his fingers with her own.

"I hope you don't. I didn't have a lot of hope. Getting slingshot across the galaxy just to crash land on this dust ball of a planet, just to find us a new home. Felt like a suicide mission. And after so long I just… I had _nothing_ left in me."

His eyes settled over Azula's jumpsuit, noting the worn texture of the Chinese flag patch she wore just over her real name and mission designation:

 _朱蕾_ _\- PROJECT ENDURANCE – NASA_

"Supplies were completely exhausted, even if I stretched it out for more than two years. I had little to no resources for farming, much less the water for it. Hell, I didn't even put a wake time when I went down for the long sleep. You literally raised me from the dead, Azula."

She stared off across the vast desert, illuminated by the three moons hanging above, "… Lazarus."

"Yeah. Fitting name," muttered Sokka.

He looked to his own tattered patches that clung to the sleeve of his worn jumpsuit, the colors of the Canadian flag all but faded:

 _SOKKA AMARAQ - PROJECT LAZARUS – NASA_

He didn't want to think about how grim his odds were. He just settled on resting his head in the nape of Azula's warm neck.

"I just can't believe I'm the only one left out of the original twelve," he said, almost regretfully.

Azula sighed, "You, Hahn, and Chan had the only data we received. By the time we launched _Endurance_ and charted a course through the Saturn Wormhole to the Gargantua-Pantagruel system, those were the planets we could take a chance on."

Sokka blinked, looking at Azula, "But… my transmitter went out. Got crushed in a rockslide during a sandstorm. I had to decommission TAMI and use her power cells to try and get it up and running. Was barely enough juice just to power the lights, much less the transmitter."

She was silent for time, staring up at the stars.

She chose her words with a slow and measured tone, "We had no real reason to suspect your data had soured over the years. Your planet had key elements to sustaining life, despite the barren surface. Like Mars in its prime. I made the argument and despite objections saying that Chan's transmitter was still sending back data with equally promising prospects, I eventually, uh…"

Deciding to untangle her fingers from his, Azula showed him several cuts scattered across her knuckles. They were still scabbing over. He suspected that they'd leave scars.

"I eventually _convinced_ our mission leader to see things my way. And so we plotted the coordinates to this planet."

The vagueness only made Sokka curious, "Uh-huh. I don't imagine words were exchanged in your counter-argument."

Azula smirked, "No, but a fair amount of punches were. Zuko may be a competent pilot, but he's no boxer. I'll give him credit though, he took more hits than I thought he could take."

"The fate humanity as we know was decided over a sibling squabble? Yeah, our future is fucked."

She merely chuckled, for the first time in a long time since he last saw her. It was as sweet to him as any melody.

"It will be a moment for our new history books I imagine."

"Yeah, epic, never mind the _lives_ at stake," he said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, "But I feel like that's only part of the answer."

She turned her head around to face him, eyes narrowed, " _Nǐ hàoqí de húndàn!_ Don't make me say it. I don't want to think about it."

"C'mon, Azula. Chan's signal was still on. Even if he was dead and his planet was just an ice ball with even a small chance of life, your team would've still tried to hone in on his location. It was less of a risk."

She swiftly turned her head away, grimacing, "… Sokka, I didn't waste months on board a cramped ship just to be shot across the galaxy and waste humanity's hopes on a lie."

"What? What are you saying?"

" _Báichī_. You and I both knew Chan. Zuko refused to see it through the data he was analyzing, but I knew that bastard was lying. He'd made small errors in his calculations. Fudged the numbers where there we're gaps in his analysis, so to speak. Zuko can't count for shit sometimes."

As Sokka sat there, stunned by her revelation, Azula took one of his hands and intertwined her fingers with his own.

She kissed his palm, "I checked your numbers too. Ran them again, analyzed the results from my end, got SATO to check a third time. And now I'm here."

As she closed her fingers around his, Sokka pulled her in for a tight hug. She didn't protest, instead leaning back against him.

He placed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her gaze toward him.

He smiled at her, "I'm glad you're here with me."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Space Sokkla! If only I had added a zero gravity scene with them in it.

Please check out Purpleplatypusbear21's story "Prisoner's Dilemma" for more exciting Sokkla stories. If you're into intrigue and the brutal politics of the Fire Nation court, check out Clarielparke's "Phoenix Rising".

Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next installment.


	6. Repose - Black Lagoon

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Black Lagoon. Requested by Anonymous.

* * *

 **\- Repose -**

* * *

The cop in the front seat reached his arm around and held the lighter out through the metal screen. Sokka leaned forward in his seat and held the tip of the cigarette over the little flame. He took a long drag and breathed out, smoke searing his lungs until he was numb, relief washing over him as he leaned back and slouched in his seat.

"Hey," she said, voice as ragged she looked, hair a mess and clothes all but torn and stained, grime with blood.

He looked at her warily, "What's up?"

She sighed, resting her back against the seat, scrounging for a pack cigarettes in her pocket, "Let me ask you something, so there won't be any more trouble… which side do you want to be on?"

"Which side, huh?" he said as he took another long drag, lost in thought, the day slipping away as the sun set over the ocean just outside the window.

It all seemed like a blur to him now. His days were filled with as much excitement as there was danger. He never asked for any of it, never asked to get kidnapped or to get taken hostage, left for dead by his company. He was just another salaryman to them, a spare cog in a massive machine.

And so he did what he had to do - survive. Make the most of things and hammer out a life with criminals and scum in the tropical hellhole collectively called Roanapur. He chose his side without even realizing it - chose to be what he was now. Prove it to his new friends. There was no turning back.

He rolled the cigarette between his teeth, "… I'm right here where I'm sitting, Azula. I'm not anywhere else."

She gave him a hard, searing look, weighing his soul with her eyes. She sighed, relaxing a bit in her seat, head bobbing as the cop car rumbled its way over the rugged roads of the city.

"Sokka…" she groaned, running her fingers through her long messy hair, "… huh, whatever. Give me a light."

"What? The cop's got it in the front seat."

"The one in your mouth, _genius_."

He blinked, "Oh. yeah."

She rolled her eyes, "Just give it here."

Leaning forward, he held the cigarette between two fingers as he kept it in his mouth. Azula leaned in to meet him halfway. He kept his eyes trained on the burning paper and away from her opened shirt. The scent of tobacco filled his nostrils.

"What a fucked up day," she muttered between her teeth. He could see the bags under her eyes and the sweat glistening off her neck. She smelled like whiskey on the rocks and cordite from spent bullet casings.

"Yeah," he mumbled, the tip of his cigarette touching hers, slowly lighting it.

He lingered for a while, holding his cigarette to hers, and then the weight of his fatigue set in, losing focus on the now and wondering just how soft her skin would be pressed against his.

Her eyes met his for only moment, lonely and broken, "Shit… I'm so tired, Sokka."

Azula slowly pulled away, the lit cigarette hanging loosely from her mouth as she reclined back into her seat, sighing as a puff of smoke escaped her lungs, "Just want to go to sleep."

With a nod, he felt the same grogginess encroach on his battered body and leaned back against the leather to close his eyes, "Yeah. Hell of a day."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Just a little scene. Though they are not an exact match for Rock and Revy, I believe this scene is Sokkla material.

Anyway, if you'd like read a story with some Zucest and Sokkla hijinx, check out PurplePlatypusBear21's story "Dishonored". If explicit lemons staring Ursa are your thing, then check out Clarielparke's story "Master and Servant".

Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next installment.


	7. Mercenaries - Transporter

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - The Transporter. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Mercenaries -**

* * *

Neon filtered through the blinds in his window and the heavy, rhythmic beat of the nearby nightclub pulsed through the walls and resonated through his body, chasing away the silence of his room. Partygoers cheered over the beat, celebrating the coming of night, freed from the day's grind.

To Sokka, it was just another night for him. Work didn't end with the setting sun and his clients always preferred the safety of the dark to conduct their business.

His phone vibrated on the nearby nightstand. He smirked in the mirror as he straightened his black tie and matted out the creases in his blue dress shirt.

First job of the night. Not a moment too soon.

Satisfied with his tie, he made his way over to the nightstand. Picking up the phone he checked the caller identification on the small, glowing screen. Anonymous, as always. The only kind of calls he ever received.

Swiping the lock on the screen with the flick of his thumb, Sokka pressed down on the green button and held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I need a driver."

The voice. Cool, confident, feminine, all business, and all too familiar. His smirked widened. Her again.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

Her tone was insistent. She had a certain knack for doing this kind of thing, cutting to business, never one for chitchat. Then again he took a measure of pride in taking on these spontaneous jobs from her. Not like he had anything lined up at the moment.

Sokka slowly strolled passed his bed, eyeing the neatly pressed black coat lying on the comforter. His pistol lay in its holster next to it, cleaned and loaded.

"Give me the details then."

"Only what you need to know."

He rolled his eyes, keeping his voice cordial, "Of course. What do you want me to do?"

There was a short pause on the other end and a sigh filtered through the speaker. Sokka rested his hand on his hip, gently tapping his finger.

"A simple job. Quick transport to a location on the other side of the city."

Sokka nodded his head, "What, or _who_ , am I transporting?"

"I want you to get me to the abandoned industrial district. Once we arrive at the location, you are to wait until I return."

"Pick up point and destination?"

"North eighty-eight and Idlewild, south sixty-third and Kent, respectively."

His gaze slowly trailed up to the worn ceiling, planning out the route, anticipating the stops and turns.

He nodded his head, "Payment?"

"Your usual rate. In cash, half when you get me to the location, half after you get me out."

He grinned. A fairly simple job. One place to another and back. Knowing her a call like this usually meant she was employed and on the move, though he could only guess at who required her services.

Made no difference to him. Her business was her own. All she needed was a getaway driver.

Her voice filtered through the speaker, "Do you accept the job?"

Sokka lightly chuckled, "You got yourself a driver."

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

Orange streetlights passed in the front window, illuminating a path along an empty road lined by decrepit apartments and dark windows. The lights were green at most intersections and he made turns when they were red, following the route he had made.

A low heat filtered through the interior fans and a hard beat played through the speakers, bass thumping in his ears and through the car. Briefly taking his hand away from the gear stick, Sokka reached for a glowing blue dial and turned the music up. His head rocked to the rhythm.

He glanced quickly at his passenger, anticipating a harsh remark. All he noticed was a gloved leather finger tapping to the rhythm. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, eyes closed and head bowed, as if deep in meditation.

"Do you want me to turn it down?" he asked her.

"No. Leave it."

Sokka shrugged, turning his head to the road, dim streetlights and flashing neon signs glaring in his eyes.

A thought occurred to him, "Heat all right?"

"Yes. Its fine."

Gently putting his foot to the brake, the car slowed as it came to an intersection, a stale red light hanging over the road. Sokka turned the wheel, slow and smooth, making a right turn down an unlit street. The headlights burned a path on the uneven pavement, dashboard and radio glowing in the darkness. He put his foot to the gas petal and the car accelerated passed empty tenements and dark, grass-infested lots.

There was a light patter against the windshield as droplets of water hit the glass.

"Hm. Looks like its gonna rain," he said, flipping down the switch to activate the wipers.

She calmly breathed through her nose, "So it will."

"Might get soaked. They said there might be a storm. Umbrella could come in handy," he said, a light touch of sarcasm with his words.

She raised her head and opened her eyes, staring up at the orange lights catching in the little drops of water pattering against the windows.

Shrugging, she lowered her head and closed her eyes, "So what? It doesn't matter to me."

Sokka nodded his head knowingly, "Mm-hm. I suppose you're right."

She sniffed the air, "Hmph. You always talk too much."

"Its what I do, Red."

The rain came down hard against the windshield, the road coated in a tar-like sheen, buildings along the cracked sidewalks shrouded in a heavy, watery mist. A homeless man under a street light ambled to his makeshift shelter as Sokka passed by. He saw him shake a fist at the sky, cursing the storm.

Another red light, another smooth turn, and another dark street along his route, going deeper into the city. Sokka casually glanced to the watch peeking out from under his jacket sleeve. He smirked. Still on time.

"I don't think you'll be late at this rate," he said.

"This is assuming I must be on time for something," she said, her tone flat.

He shrugged his shoulders casually, "I guess you could say that. If I needed to get somewhere important I wouldn't want some scrub driving me around and making wrong turns."

"In-directly patting yourself on the back. Careful, Driver, keep that up and your arm might break."

He mimicked an offended look as he kept his eyes on the road, "Ouch. That burned."

"Can't stand the heat? Pull over and cool the wound off in the rain."

He chuckled, "Lovely as always, Red."

"Thanks."

Shabby apartments with broken windows gave way to old factories and empty lots hemmed in by chain-linked fences. The roads were thin and rough and Sokka had to drive over the occasional deep puddle as the car lurched. Rusted metal walls and black smoke stacks climbed into the cloudy night, the rain pattering hard over the corrugated metal roofs.

Slowing his speed considerably, Sokka reached for the radio dial and turned down the music. Through the rain he spied an old warehouse, its massive doors left opened, its interior big enough to lay low in.

Bounding over the cracks and holes in the road he slowly drove inside, pulling up beside a wall with enough shadow to keep him concealed.

When he cut the headlights out he immediately killed the engine. Everything went dark and his eyes took a while to adjust. He left the key in the ignition.

"We're here."

Raising her head, she opened her eyes. Unfolding her arms she reached into her jacket, unclasped a strap, and took out her pistol. From the other side, hanging on a small, concealed bandoleer, she took hold of a matte-black silencer. She clasped it to the end of the barrel and tightened it.

"Red" she said, getting Sokka's attention, "Why to do call me that?"

He didn't answer her immediately, too pre-occupied as he unbuttoned his jacket and took out his own pistol.

Scanning the darkness around him, Sokka laid the pistol on his lap, gripping it firmly, finger off the trigger.

"Your sweater. The one you always like to wear under your jacket. I noticed you stopped wearing dress shirts when you got blood on them. Red's a good color on you."

With one last turn the silencer was secured to her pistol.

"You should learn to keep your eyes on the road more," she said, fixing him with a hard glare.

"Heh. Fair enough I guess."

She unbuttoned a covered pocket on her jacket. Reaching in, she then held out a sizable stack of crisp bills.

"For the ride. Stay here until I return. You'll get the rest once we're out of here safely."

Sokka took the stack from her hand and tucked them away into a pocket in his jacket.

"Safely huh? Expecting trouble?"

"Always."

He nodded his head, looking out through the rain-covered window, "You seem pretty calm for someone who might walk into a bloodbath."

She chuckled lightly, "When you are resolved from the beginning, then you will not be perplexed. You know what to expect and so there is no use in worrying about the inevitable."

Sokka blinked, his eyes widening, "Tsunetomo, right?"

She turned to him, a perplexed expression twisting her features, before nodding her head, "That's right."

"Huh. Go figure."

She said nothing, staring at him with a blank, unreadable expression. Without anything else to say she turned her head away, opening the door beside her and silently walking out into the cold night.

Her footsteps faded away as Sokka looked out into the dark, her silhouette merging with the rough-hewn shadows of the gutted warehouse.

All that was left for him to do was play the waiting game.

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

At first, it was just the rain, the minutes passing and giving way to hours. As the storm passed, there was only silence, broken by the occasional groan of rusted support beams and squeaking leather as Sokka shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat.

And then, like distant flashes of lightning out of the corner of his eye, came the gunfire.

Yellow sparks at the opposite end of the empty warehouse drew his eye, the patter of bullets ringing against the metal walls.

Through the brief flashes he saw a lone, shadowy figure rush across the puddle-strewn floor toward his car. He could hear her panting as she threw open the passenger door, the dull thud of an empty clip echoing through the warehouse as it hit the floor. The engine growled to life before she even shut the door and Sokka was already shifting gears before she loaded a fresh clip into her pistol.

"Go!"

Foot to the petal and engine roaring, the car sped forward as Sokka made a sharp turn through the warehouse opening, racing down the road.

Gunfire lit up his rear view mirror as bullets screamed by over the drone of the engine. He flinched as a bullet hit his rear windshield, the impact creating a small web of broken glass.

"Shit! The fuck did you do?!"

"Just shut up and drive!"

He pressed down on the gas petal hard, shifting gears again as the car bounded over the uneven road. He rocked forward and backward over every bump as she looked over her shoulder through the broken rear windshield, pistol at the ready.

The gunfire faded as the car sped passed rows of old warehouses and factories, the road getting smaller, the turns tighter.

As he rounded another difficult corner, gritting his teeth, he pressed down hard on the brakes just to make the turn. Gaining control, he quickly shifted his gaze to all his rear view mirrors.

A pair of yellow lights trailed behind him, gaining speed.

"We've got a tail," she said, rolling down the right hand window.

"I see 'em, I see 'em," he muttered, gripping the wheel as he struggled to switch to the proper gear.

"Then loose them!"

Sokka gunned the engine hard as he pressed down on the petal, speed dial spiking, RPM rising.

He could feel the grip on the tires slip against rain-slick surface of the road, every little correction to keep his car steady throwing him off, zigzagging and turning as empty lots gave way to apartments. Streetlights and telephone poles rushed by as he sped through empty intersections and over bumps, the bottom of the car grinding against the cement, the cold air blowing through the opened window.

Their tail stubbornly kept pace, getting closer.

"Its a fucking van, you can't outrun it!?" she yelled, looking back through the opened window as she reached out and attempted to aim her gun.

"Just watch me," he retorted, gripping the wheel as he sped passed another intersection, a stale red light passing over him.

"Then do it quick! They're bringing out the heavy gun!"

"Wait, _what_!?"

Before Sokka knew it, his rear view mirrors lit up, white-hot tracers racing passed his view as bullets tore up the road. Sparks, mud, and water scattered into the cold air. A terrible crack, like the high-pitched drone of a buzz saw, deafened his ears and he pressed his foot down on the petal, trying to out pace the bullets.

"They have a fucking machine gun!?" he yelled, barely catching a hint of the long barrel jutting out of the van's sliding door in his left rear view mirror.

Gunshots rang out in Sokka's ears to his right, flash flames glinting off the glass. Another thunderous volley from the machine gun in the van ripped through the air as a succession of metallic pangs rocked the car.

"German MG-3," spat his passenger, emptying her pistol as she reached into her jacket and loaded another clip, "It'll tear us to pieces if you don't shake them off!"

"What do think I'm trying to do!?"

Another blinding flash from the side of the van, bullets finding their mark as his left rear view mirror shattered to pieces, chunks of the rear windshield chipping away under the intense fire.

"Trying to get us killed apparently!" she yelled back, turning back to shoot through the massive hole in the window behind them.

Flashes blinded Sokka and spent casings nicked his suit and skin. He blinked, gritting his teeth as he tried to swerve out of the gun's line of sight.

The arrow on the speedometer climbed and he could feel the massive strain on the engine through the frame of his car as it hummed through the steering wheel to his palms. If this went on…

At the end of the road he spied an intersection through the dark, yellow flashing to red. He quickly glanced in his rear view mirror, the van hot on his tail as sparks licked off its bumper, bullets careening off the metal.

The intersection drew closer. His sweaty fingers drummed against the gear stick, hand twitching on the steering wheel as his eyes darted from the rapidly closing intersection to the van.

"Reloading!" she yelled over the wind blowing through the car, ducking forward in her seat as she reached for another clip.

Sokka's nostrils flared, heart thumping in his ears, "Hang on tight!"

Her eyes shot open as he hastily switched gears. She barely had time to take hold of the passenger handle hanging above her head when in a sudden, violent move Sokka brought the car into a sharp left turn. Rubber drifted across the slick pavement, a deafening screech tearing into their ears, the car lurching at a dangerous angle as the world blurred into a black and orange haze.

Shifting gears once more, Sokka stepped on the gas petal, the engine revving to life as the tail of the car skidded back into place. The RPM meter and speedometer spiked and Sokka raced down the darkened road, a wet and rubbery scent heavy on the cold breeze.

Through his rear view mirror he could see the van. It toppled over on its side, wheels lifted into the air as the gunner in the opened door was flung across the slick road like a rag doll. Screeching metal slid against the pavement and the van finally came to a violent stop, its hood crushed against a wooden telephone pole.

His eyes widened, chapped lips twisting into a wicked grin, "Yeah, did you see that!? Fucking perfect! That's what they get for fucking up my car!"

"For Christ-sake, just shut up and drive! We need to get out of here!" she yelled, sitting up in her seat as she looked back over her shoulder toward the receding van.

"Oh were gone, Red, we're _gone_!"

As he sped down the empty street, all lights green, Sokka could feel the cool air whip at his heated skin, the rush still humming through this bones, as if he had crossed a finish line.

He never felt more alive than after moments like those.

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

It wasn't what he was expecting as far as a place to lay low. Then again she specifically asked to be brought here as part of the contract. He couldn't really complain. She even allowed him stay for a bit to rest up.

All things considered, it was a pretty good decision.

"Here y'go!"

Sokka never thought that the scent a hot, steaming bowl of ramen could be so enticing. When the shapely waitress with the big, lively gray eyes finally laid the tray in front of him he practically salivated. Tenderly cooked sliced pork, thick golden wheat noodles, dried seaweed, two boiled eggs, and chopped green onions. A meal fit for anyone.

Delicately, he took the spoon lying beside the bowl on the tray and dipped it onto the soup. Steam rose up into his nostrils and a warm, salty scent put the inescapable feeling of divine comfort into his very soul. He took a long sip, savoring the flavor of the meat broth mixed with soy sauce as it left a long warm trail down to his stomach.

He sighed, "Perfection."

Giggling, the young waitress smiled at him, "Thanks! Y'know it means a lot you saying that. My wife's been working hard to get just the right amount of soy sauce."

Sokka smiled back, lifting his thumb up while holding the spoon to his mouth, "She's a great cook then. Give her a kiss for a job well done."

"Oh, don't you worry about that. She gets lots of kisses!"

Opposite of him, leaning back against the seat in the tiny dining booth, Sokka's long time client rolled her eyes, "That will be all Ty Lee, thank you."

The waitress's smile faded a bit, masking something Sokka could only interpret as contempt.

"Sure thing, Azula," she said, trying to regain the sincerity in her voice, "I'll be out with your soup in a minute. Jin should be finishing up with it."

"Fine. Go then."

Ty Lee lingered for a moment. Narrowing her eyes, she walked away toward the front counter.

Sokka's eyes followed her as she made her way into the kitchen before turning back to his soup. Taking a mouthful of noodles, he swallowed hard and wiped his lips with a napkin.

"Azula huh?" he said, staring at her, "So, that's your name."

She sighed, "Yes. What of it?"

"Nothing. Just observing the fact I know your name."

Azula folded her arms in front her chest, leaning back in her seat as she fixed him with a steely glare, "My friend has a big mouth. You do well not to say that name outside this place."

Sokka chuckled, "Relax, will ya? Not like I have anything to gain from telling anyone. Breaks my confidentiality clause, y'know? I don't ask for names, clients don't give them, and what I know I keep to myself."

"Good. I would be well within my right to kill you if you did tell anyone. Breaks my reputation for discretion and secrecy."

"Oh, I'm _shaking_. My fucking sphincter just tightened."

"Ugh. Just eat your damn noodles. I shouldn't have let you stay."

"Sucks to be you. And I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, this ramen is _phenomenal_."

"Fool. There is a reason why this place gets few customers you know. The cook is horrible."

Sokka smirked, "You've obviously never tasted this ramen then. I'm sensing a bit of jealously here too. So, what, you got a thing for the waitress or something? Mad she didn't pick you or something?"

Azula's eyes narrowed, lips twisted into a grimace, "I don't swing that way, you little shit. If I did, then I wouldn't fuck former whores like her."

There was something in the tone of her voice that compelled Sokka to take her seriously.

His eyes widened, "Jesus. Way to bring down the fucking hammer, Azula. What do you have against people making a new life for themselves, huh?"

"Do you ever stop asking so many stupid fucking questions?"

He rolled his eyes, "Ugh, fine. Too tired anyway. Plus, I'd rather enjoy this soup in peace-"

"That makes two of us."

Sokka grimaced, pursing his lips, "… anyway, to make things even, how about you ask _me_ question? If I answer, then I shut up after that. I swear it."

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, clouded by fatigue. The night had taken its toll on her.

She smirked, "Make things even, huh? Fine. What's your name?"

He blinked, unexpectedly surprised, "Uh. It's Sokka."

She sniffed the air derisively, "Huh. Sokka. That name sounds stupid enough not to be a fake one."

"… Its Aboriginal Canadian. Inuit."

"Well, no wonder."

"Oh, you fucking bi-"

"Ah! What did we agree on?" she stated, a smug smile twisting her lips.

Sokka growled under his breath. Narrowing his eyes at her he then turned his attention to the steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. Using the chopsticks he inhaled a mouthful of noodles, eating in relative silence.

They never said anything else for the rest of their meal, Azula getting her bowl shortly after him, failing to even thank the waitress. Before they left, she slid the last of his payment across the table and he accepted it without a word.

When they were done they parted ways, Sokka walking toward his car and Azula walking the opposite direction.

He heard her voice call out to him when he turned away.

"Thanks."

Taken back, Sokka pausing for a moment. He then turned on his heels, smiled, and waved her goodbye. She turned away, walking under the flickering streetlights until she faded into the night.

Sokka knew he'd see her again. She was tough. She had to be in her line of work.

As for him - he'd be around. Everyone needed a driver to get out of a tight spot and he was just crazy enough for the job.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Mixed in a bit of "The Hire" as well. Those short movies are surprisingly good.

Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next installment.


	8. Repeat - Edge of Tomorrow

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - Edge of Tomorrow. Requested by Focusas.

* * *

 **\- Repeat -**

* * *

It was painful just to breathe. He clung to life by the shredded tendons of his lungs, the heavy plasti-steel chest piece punctured and torn to bloody shreds, lying motionless in the crater.

Sokka peered up toward the sky through the fractured steel visor of his helmet. The relentless sun was filtered through a red and black haze as his vision blurred in and out of focus. Shapes lost their form and the world slowly became untethered.

Blood pooled in his mouth, the slick copper taste heavy on his slack tongue. Weakly, he attempted to breathe through his clotted nose, the smell of his inevitable death looming closer, mixed with the scent of smoke and burning palm leaves.

Slow and numbing. He wanted to cry. He would never see home again.

He gurgled, blinked. Red tracer fire screamed over his head. Pillars of dirt and sand lifted into the air around him, the ground shaking ceaselessly. He felt his tattered body and bones crack within his own armor.

And then she came. Just a lumbering armored shadow that blotted out the sun, hunched over him as the tracers raced overhead.

Her voice was like a whisper from a half-remembered dream as she leaned down and touched his helmet with an steel, automotive hand.

"Hey. There's something I've been wanting ask you."

He wheezed as he choked on his blood. Sokka willed his arms to move, trying to make the actuators in his metal exoskeleton come to life. Static warning signals screeched in his headphones. His very blood seemed to slow. He felt so numb, so useless.

"Is it true what they say? About the green tea they serve in Japan at the end of the year?"

A blinding flash. The earth shook. Chunks of dirt pattered his armor and visor, getting in his glossy eyes. She'd be buried in this grave with him if she didn't move.

She breathed, as calmly as she could, "Do you really get the tea for free?"

It was surreal. His mind desperately wandered from the pain, grasping at anything that would take it away.

Tea. He never liked it.

A beer out on the porch, watching the sun set over the sea, the stars coming out. That was his drink.

But the earthy taste of green tea... warm on his tongue, soul soothing, bundled up in a nice cozy shop as he watched the snow fall through foggy glass, couples out in the cold waiting for the bells to welcome the beginning of the year.

 _If she'd only stayed that night…_

"… hfff… hfff… yffs…"

 _Yes._

His eyes felt as if they would rend apart, torn by the sheer pain as he struggled to look at the shadowy figure leaning above him. Her armored exoskeleton was black. She clutched the handle of something massive behind her - an axe, a sword, Sokka couldn't tell.

She was a hard steel beast. A gunmetal demon with a voice like an angel, filtered through a helmet radio.

"I'm Azula Sakhalin, soldier. I'll stay with you until you die."

He could have sworn he saw gold eyes through her visor.

 _Gold. Huh._

There was a white light. And then there was nothing.

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

Death number three.

Shit.

He had died three times. And every death seemed more gruesome, more futile, and more stark than the last. He had died twice on the battlefield, and once as he tried to desert. He ran as fast as he could, away from his inevitable death, if only to stall it for a little longer. He didn't even get far enough from the base before they shot him in the back.

He was stuck, unable to escape, suffering death after agonizing death.

And there she would be. Hovering over him, patient, like the grim reaper.

As Sokka sat up in his cot, body shuddering from the shock of another death, he couldn't help but wonder…

 _Who was that girl?_

The cot above him stirred and a hand reached down beside his face. It held a paper.

"Yo, Sokka, sign this for me, yeah? Everyone's got to."

Deja vu all over again. He hardly glanced at the paper as he took it.

"Sure. Thanks Haru."

He set it aside on his cot. It was a confession slip. The whole squad was in on it. Jet had the idea of stealing beer from the PX and having a little party with a couple of nurses from the base hospital. A last hurrah before the battle. If any of them came back alive they'd turn in the dead man's confession slip, saying he did it.

It was a cocky thing to do. They were so sure they were going to live. After his third death, Sokka had the foresight of knowing that his whole squad would be slaughtered. The whole gesture was futile, just like escaping from the horrible cycle of death he found himself in.

But he finally got it. Every time he died, time looped, his memories fully intact. He didn't know why this was happening, but he couldn't get out of it. No matter where he was or how he died, he always ended up back at the base on his cot.

Seemed liked those were the rules in this world. He could waste his time, maybe go to the party Jet put together and spend the night with people he hardly knew. He'd only be stalling.

He could run again and get himself shot. A bullet to the back was good as a mimic's bone javelin.

Either way, he was screwed.

Sokka hunched forward in his seat on the cot, clutching his stomach. He'd been staring at the opposite wall of barracks for some time, trying not to think of the queasiness he felt upon this horrible revelation. He didn't even know if he was only one in stuck this loop.

It didn't matter. If he was the only one, then he had no choice but to fight, to kill his fear of dying.

Fine. If staying alive was the only way to get back at the world, then he'd fight. He'd become as calm as the girl with the golden eyes. Unflinching in the heat of battle. He hoped to see her again, fighting like a real soldier.

This is where his war would really begin.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Happy 4th of July!

So, you may have noticed things are different here. I've never actually seen Tom Cruise's "Edge of Tomorrow", but I have read the manga it was inspired by - Takeshi Obata's "All You Need is Kill". I'd really like to delve into this one more and may come back with another installment to this little piece in the future. I believe this is prime Sokkla territory.

Hope you liked this new installment! I'll see you all for the next one!


	9. Rebirth - Non-Sokkla Entry

**A/N:**

Entry for Azula Week 2017 - Modern AU - Azula-centric.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **\- Rebirth -**

* * *

Her voice is like thunders across the room, calling your attention. Her words are fire. They burn the last bridge to that pitiful, wretched existence you had, of smelling the cheap cigarettes on mother's breath as she yells in your face, of listening to brother weep in pain as father beats him with his fists, his head drumming against the wall.

"Sit up straight and look at me!"

Your spine stiffens on command, your eyes staring straight ahead, afraid of the wrath you may incur if you blink. It was not a suggestion. It was as good as a commandment from God.

As one, the girls – no, the filth, just like you – sound off. Your voice cracks over the deafening roar and you count yourself fortunate that no one has heard how scared you sound.

"Aye ma'am!"

She towers over the group as you sit crossed-legged, her shaded eyes under her stiff drill hat glaring over you, but you don't look up. You stare straight ahead into the immaculately cleaned olive drab wall. You flinch as her voice pierces your ears and she paces like a tiger in front of the recruits besides you.

"My name is Staff Sergeant Azula, your senior drill instructor. My mission is to train each of you to become a United States marine. A marine is characterized as one who possess the highest military virtues, respects her seniors, and strives constantly to be the best in everything she does!"

Yes. They told you as much back at the recruiting office. A Marine. Tough, respected, proud, the very picture of someone you do not want to fuck with. The tip of the spear glinting in the sun, the fear of the world made manifest in human form.

Everything you aren't. Everything you want to be.

"Discipline and spirit are the hallmarks of a marine. Each of you can become a marine if you develop discipline and spirit! You will give every effort, every ounce of yourself, to meet this goal!"

There is a pain in your chest as her words sink in. You remember the grades you got in school, the feel of paper crumpling in your hands as you toss another failing grade into the bin and light another blunt to forget the shame, getting high off your own shortcomings.

And then the few gangly boys in your short life as a teenager pop into your mind, making-out on their stale and messy sheets as you fumbled with their zippers, trying to kiss the pain in your life away and hoping one of them gave enough of a shit about you to whisper sweet words in your ear. Maybe pretend like you're in love for a change.

You were always a fucking idiot.

"Starting now, you will treat me and all other marines with the highest respect, for we have earned our place as marines, and we expect nothing less than that from you!"

Your brow creases. Doubt creeps into your soul, black and poisonous and familiar. The teachers demanded respect too as you talked behind their backs in class. Mother and father demanded respect too, a hand across your face if you gave them sass. You didn't care. It was all the same. They were all wretched and pale and disgusting. Why did you have to give them respect?

But this instructor… this woman clad in brown and green fatigues with the voice like thunder…

You dare to look up for moment and you despair, for there is something in her you greatly envy, about the way she carries herself and strides with her chin up across the glossy green floor.

She is pale, like you, but firm, as if hewn from stone, her hair tied into a plain black bun. She is hard to comprehend, a freak of nature, for you imagined your entire life that a soldier was a man, gaunt and steel-eyed, hardened by war.

And yet there she paced, a warrior clad in camouflage, baptized in blood, and hard from distant wars the world over.

Everything you aren't. Everything you want to be.

"I and my assistant instructors will treat you as we do our fellow marines: with firmness, fairness, and dignity. We will push you every step of the way, for every single day that you are here, even when you have given up on yourself!"

There is a pain in your chest, a fear of the unknown, of going down another dark and uncertain path. You can't seem to take her words seriously, but there is no going back. You are dead. You are dead to those that knew you. You are ash scattered upon the dirt, flickering cinders blowing in the wind. You are the lowest form of life.

"I have told you what I will do. From all of you, I demand the following – you will give one hundred percent of yourself at all times! You will obey all orders quickly, willingly, and without question! You will treat all marines and recruits with respect. Abuse and threats made by any of you upon your fellow marines or recruits will not be tolerated!"

You hear the harshness in her words, the fear she invokes, for there is the weight and might of the corps behind her, something terrible and omnipotent.

And yet, you feel a sense of… relief.

Yes, that's it, isn't it? Why?

"A marine never lies, cheats, or compromises. Respect the rights and properties of others! A marine never steals and one who does will not be tolerated! You will work hard to strengthen your body and be ready to meet any threat our country faces! Be proud of yourself and the uniform you wear. Above all, never quit or give up!"

She says the words with such force that they sear your mind. The pain makes you flinch, forcing you to look away from her. You have never, in all your life, heard these words. They are unnatural, incomprehensible, and yet strangely… soothing.

"For me and for you the challenge of recruit training is the opportunity to earn the title of United States marine!"

The words roll off her tongue with firm reverence to the very institution that made her into the terrible warrior she is. The soles of her boots glide across the floor and her heels click as she comes to attention, erect and resolute.

Your eyes flick to her again and… and then something clicks. Even as you sit there, scared shitless and doubting your decision to leave your old, familiar life behind, it finally clicks.

This is your shot. This is your opportunity to make… _something_ out of yourself. You were not as fortunate as other girls who could live a life of bliss and peace, filled with books and dates and boys fawning over you. You were not pretty to begin with, even when you tried. You weren't smart, you weren't athletic, and you weren't even interested in trying to be something. You were the worst kind of nobody.

This woman, this drill instructor… she's everything you aren't. She's everything you want to be.

You don't care how much you have to sweat. You don't care how much you will bleed. You don't care how many bruises you will get and you don't care how much time you have to spend in this hell they call recruit training. You've made your choice. You are not going back. You are not weak. You will stay. You have to.

You are dead to the world you left behind. Through the corps, through Drill Instructor Azula, you will be born again hard.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Switching things up a bit here and giving you guys an Azula-centric piece I made for Azula Week 2017, back in early June over on Tumblr. As you can see, this AU involves Azula being a marine drill instructor, something I feel she'd be incredibly suited for. Married to Sokka in this one, but hey, didn't really look to far into this.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! See you all for the next installment!


	10. Drabble Collection - II

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - James Bond, Summer, Die Hard, and Shrek, respectively. Requested by Focusas and Seyary-Minamoto.

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **I**

* * *

Her breath hitched as his lips pressed against her back.

A shiver coursed through Azula as she spoke, "Do you know how mad I am at you?"

A hand found her hips, another gently glided up her exposed back, kneading the tension from her tired muscles as she felt his weight sink into the bed next to her. His warms lips traced up to the back of her shoulders and he moaned into her skin.

He worshipped her with his trembling voice, "Can't imagine, really."

The hand on her bare hip slid lower, kneading her buttocks, the other snaking around as his fingers caressed her breasts. She hummed, basking in his touch, his lips kissing her neck.

"Furious no doubt," he said, kissing behind her ear, "I took your gun away."

He pinched and squeezed as he leaned into her and she felt his desire for her growing.

She merely chuckled, a husky and devious whimper of pleasure jolting through her body.

Her hand reached back to card through his hair as he nibbled her ear, pressing her to the mattress, "Mmm, I feel naked without it."

"More than you are now?" he whispered, his breath tickling the little hairs on her neck as his hand slipped between her legs.

Her back arched to the shape of him and she moaned, letting the moment take her.

She'd let him have this round... for now.

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **II**

* * *

At first she thought it was strangely erotic, the way he firmly gripped her hand as she held the bottom of the cone, chocolate and vanilla mixed into a sweet harmony as their lips drew closer, munching and licking away as they sat on a park bench under the sun.

And then, just as she finished her side, she realized he was just hungry. A swift tap to the side of his head made his eyes boggle, as if roused from a trance.

"Don't eat it all you pig!" she snapped.

He sputtered his words, chocolate and vanilla dripping from his mouth, "Owf! Whaf wasth thaf for!?"

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **III**

* * *

Heart beating, sweat in his eyes, the smell of cordite on the air, Sokka hastily leaned down to lock the breaching charge over the door handle.

He muttered bitterly to himself, "Oh yeah, sure. Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs."

Azula groaned, "Shut up about it already, its not like I made any promises."

She pressed her back against the wall just behind him and loaded a fresh clip into her sub-machinegun, sliding the charging handle back with a harsh click.

She lowered the plastic visor hanging over her helmet, "You ready to breach, cowboy?"

Getting up and taking his place just behind her, Sokka hoisted the shotgun hanging off his side and pumped the handle as a new shell was loaded in.

A smirk twisting his chapped lips as the breaching charge ticked to zero, "Yippie kay yay, mother-fucker."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **IV**

* * *

She quirked and eyebrow, puzzled by his lack of feeling, "Sokka, do you not feel that arrow jutting out of your ass?"

Stopping mid-step, thinking her tone was just another ruse to annoy him, his eyes quickly widened. The hot and sudden pain emanated from his left cheek and coursed through the rest of his body, making its terrible presence known.

"…Oh," he uttered feebly, grinding his teeth as he twisted his hip around to look at the offensive shaft buried deep into his skin.

He winced at the sight, "Well, would you look at that?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Another collection of shorter Sokkla prompts! I particularly liked the first two, as you can probably tell. I've got a couple more of these stored away and, of course, the longer ones will be coming along.

Hope you enjoyed! I'll see you all for the next installment!


	11. Drabble Collection - III

**A/N:**

AU prompt challenges from Tumblr - Dance, Burning Trees, Better, Valedictorian, and Hokuto no Ken. Requested by Fokusas, Purpleplatypusbear21, and an anonymous user.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **I**

* * *

"And then we just, uh, what did you call it? Sway?" he smiled, pulling her ever so closely as they danced to the rhythm of a timeless song.

She loosened up, step by gentle step, her hands clasping his, silent among the crowd of green-cladded dancers swaying under a warm starry night, jade and crimson lanterns hanging from above as the tune elicited fantasies she could never have dreamed of.

"Is this what its like when there are no wars to fight?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully, "Its new for me too… I wish it can always stay this way."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **II**

* * *

"Are you high? _Again_?" questioned Azula, picking up the chipped tea glass on the floor, sniffing the rim, "And off cactus juice no less!"

"Azula, life is an obese empress walking backwards into a cucumber, so you should just pretend and not lose sleep over your parents' milk," Sokka blabbered, his words hopelessly slurred as he wrapped and arm around her shoulder, "That way you can get eternity back and be the reason why other people feel purple."

Oh, she knew this was a stupid idea pouring herself a cup of juice, but her day was bleak and perhaps an inexplicable choice made in the company of her lover, high off of an impossible sense of joy she greatly envied, may make the evening just a bit more bearable.

And so she threw her common sense to wind with a simple toast. "Cheers, or whatever."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **III**

* * *

"Anything you can do, I can do _better_."

"No you can't!" said Sokka, incensed by her apparent audacity.

With a tilt of her head and a clever smirk, Azula leaned forward and kissed him, thrilled by the taste of his lips and the lack of a response. "Yes, I can."

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **IV**

* * *

"Ha! You call that an attack? Your Hokuto Boomerang-Ken style barely gave me a headache, you little bastard!" yelled the snow bandit, unsheathing his own massive boomerang as he prepared to strike, "Now you'll see how it's really done!"

Sokka merely sneered as he sheathed his boomerang. "Heh. You're already dead, you idiot."

"What are you on about boy!? I'm still-"

At that instant, as the bandit's head suddenly caved-in, his very skull exploding in a gruesome red haze as blood spattered the snow, Azula eyes widened in disbelief, taken off guard by the sheer spectacle.

"What… the _fuck_ just happened?"

* * *

 **]|||[**

 **V**

* * *

She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and as his soft lips laid claim to her skin his hand reach out from behind her, lifting up her plaid skirt.

"Some challenge," she purred, her breath hitching at the feel of his stiffened cock rubbing against her ass, "You hardly stood a chance."

"True," he said, another hand reaching up toward her neck, tugging roughly at her little tie, "And neither did you."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Just a few more drabbles I did recently as part of a challenge! If you're wondering why they're so short, its because the challenge itself requires you to pick an AU and write 3 sentences about it.

Well, another day and another installment! Hope you liked it despite how brief it all was. I'll see you all in the next installment, which should be coming out very soon!


	12. Love Bite - Love Bug I

**A/N:**

Tumblr AU challenge - Love Bug. Requested by Seyary-Minamto.

This one exceeded the original parameters of the challenge, but I felt that three sentences wouldn't do this one justice. You'll be seeing more of this particular AU in future installments here.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **\- Love Bite -**

 **I**

* * *

"So, uh… let me get this straight, Aang," said Sokka, his voice strained as Azula wrapped her arms a little too tenderly around his neck, "You're telling me that this giant wolf-spirit didn't, in fact, barf out a swarm of moth-wasps?"

"Yup," commented Aang, looking apprehensive as the princess softly rubbed Sokka's cheek with her own.

"And that, for _some reason_ , it released a bunch of, uh… oh no," Sokka stuttered, tensing up as Azula kissed him, "Oh no, she's doing it again."

"Just tell her to _stop_ ," said Katara, narrowing her eyes at Azula, "She's making _me_ uncomfortable every time she does it."

"Says the _overly affectionate_ peasant who practically _fawns_ over the Avatar," Azula hissed, turning her attention once again to the person who's lap she sat comfortably upon, "Ignore her, Sokka, and let me feel your lips on mine."

"Uh… maybe, later?" Sokka smiled awkwardly, hoping that would satisfy her.

"Sokka!" yelled Katara.

"W-What do you want me to do? She's got me in a bind here. I'm practically her hostage! I'm selfish, I don't want to her to hurt me!"

"Oh, I would _never_ dream of hurting you," Azula purred, jabbing two fingers under Sokka's chin, making him look at her, "If that peasant you call a sister even thinks about prying you from my arms, then I'll burn her alive."

"Um, please don't."

"I'd like to see you try, Azula!" Katara yelled.

Aang put an arm out in front of her. "Honey, _please_ , calm down. It's just the effect of the love-bug bites-"

"So that's what those spirit things are called? _Love_ bugs? Seriously!?" yelled Sokka.

"Yes, Sokka," Aang commented, "At least that's what my people used to call them. Pink wings like cherry blossoms in spring, with a sting like prick of a needle. The effect of their bite should where off… eventually?"

" _Eventually_? How long his that going to take, Aang!? Days!? Months!?" yelled Sokka.

"Don't pretend to act so displeased," Azula added, smiling mischievously as she rubbed Sokka's chest, "Your heart is practically _pounding_. I know you _love_ me. Frankly, you should feel _very_ fortunate I love you at all. I'm quite the catch you know."

Sokka desperately searched for an answer, feeling his life hang precariously in the balance. "Uh, yeah, sure! I'm just, uh, so happy! Just, uh, so thrilled, you know? Love, huh? Wow, what a thing. Such an honor to be loved by you I guess…"

Whatever hint of sarcasm he used was lost on Azula. Her eyes merely widened at the apparent confession and for a brief moment Sokka saw them glint in the firelight, alive with passion. With unexpected force her lips found his, soft and welcoming. He nearly fell back, cheeks red as Azula deepened the kiss, pulling roughly at his collar.

A string of saliva hung between them as she slowly parted. "I'm _thrilled_ you think that way."

Sokka turned desperately to his friends for support, heart beating in his ears. "Guys, help! Please? She's a good kisser and I don't know what to think about that!"

Katara felt herself grow cold as she witnessed the unnatural sight, her stomach practically churning. "This has got to be some kind of cruel joke."

Aang smiled uncomfortably, finding solace in the feel of Katara's hand, "At least she's a bit more cooperative. Maybe now we can get to Hira'a without fighting, right Zuko?"

As Aang turned to the Fire Lord, still reeling in horror at the sight of his sister going tongue deep into his best friend's mouth, he didn't feel he would find reassurance.

Zuko, feeling utterly exhausted, only had enough strength to groan in anguish. "I'm… just gonna go lie down now."

* * *

 **]|||[**

* * *

It was deep into the night when Zuko opened his eyes, roused from his sleep by an insistent bodily urge. Groaning uncomfortably, he hastily threw off his blanket and hurried away, searching for a tree in the dark to hide behind.

Sighing with relief, he followed the light back to the campsite, treading quietly across the dirt as he drew closer. With the exception of Katara tending to the campfire everyone else was fast asleep. Squinting, Zuko could barely make out Aang laying bundled in a blanket atop Appa's head, with the lemur scrunched into a ball just beside him.

Sitting comfortably beside the campfire as she listened to the crickets chirp, Katara gave Zuko a knowing smile. "Nature called, huh?"

He frowned as he walked beside the campfire, drawing a long shadow behind him. "Yeah, and I answered."

"You going back to sleep?"

He stopped mid-step. "Why?"

"You'll have the next watch soon."

Groaning, Zuko's eyes looked to the stars glinting above, reluctantly walking away from his bedroll and the warmth of his blanket.

He took his seat opposite from Katara. "I'll stay up then."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Positive. I can't sleep anyway."

"Stomach ache or something? That meal I cooked was far from bad, Sokka practically devoured it."

"No," Zuko insisted, shaking his head, "No, its not that. Something else."

Katara tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "Ah. Its Azula isn't it?"

Surprised, Zuko grew stiff, pursing his lips tightly. "More than that really."

"Well, if you're worried about her snapping and killing us in our sleep you don't have to worry. Aang and I have been watching her closely. She hasn't even stirred…"

Her face soured in the firelight as she looked over Zuko's shoulder, eyes raking viciously over Azula as she lay beside Sokka, her face buried in the nape of his neck for warmth. Slowly Zuko turned, seeing his sister sleep calmly.

Katara scoffed. "I guess I'd sleep well too if I had a human shield laying next to me."

Taken aback, Zuko raised his one good eyebrow in disbelief. "You see Sokka as fodder then? That's harsh, even for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. He's my brother, Zuko. I'd _never_ see him as someone to _sacrifice_ without a second thought. I'm not Azula."

"But you guys get into fights. Bicker with one another. Aang even said that at times, after you two would argue, you wouldn't even speak to each other until you cooled off."

"For someone who has a sister, you don't seem to know a lot about how siblings work."

"Well, you've never had someone like Azula as your sister."

Katara smirked. "Good. I'm very lucky then."

Pouting, the scar tissue under Zuko's eye twitched uncomfortably. "But even after all those fights, you still look after him."

She shrugged as casually as she could. "He throws witty remarks at me, I throw snowballs at him. Its a very good relationship."

"That's a bit unfair. Seems like he gets the short end of the deal."

"I throw snowballs at him, Zuko. They're cold, yes, but they're harmless. I'd never forgive myself if I actually hurt Sokka out of anger. Why would I do that to someone who would gladly take a knife in the arm for me?"

"That's… a very specific example."

"Sokka doesn't like scars. You think he wraps his arms just to look fashionable?"

The words Zuko wanted to say were lost to him. A brief silence fell between them and all he could do was nod in agreement. "You… you have a good brother, Katara."

"I do. The war turned good people into dogs, poisoned them even. The south was a harsh place then. I'm just lucky Sokka stayed the way he is," she said, doing a double take and adding, "Well, I'm glad he's not _sexist_ anymore, but he's still the same."

Zuko nodded thoughtfully to himself, looking over his shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe Azula sees all that in him. I sure don't."

Katara groaned. "The only reason why your sister sinks her _claws_ into him is because of those stupid bug bites. She'll go back to seeing him as scum once the effect wears off. She zapped him before we started this trip to find your mom, she has no love for him."

"I _know_ that Katara, I was there."

She folded her arms, looking grim. "I shouldn't have let him carry her when she fainted from the bites. First person she sees when she opens her eyes and immediately kisses him. _Ugh_."

"Reminds you of all those bad fairy tales they told us as kids, huh?" said Zuko, looking thoughtful as he stared into the campfire.

"I don't know what kind of fairy tales Fire Nation kids hear, but this is whole thing is just ridiculous."

"So were the fairy tales. An avatar from the days of old, arrogant, mean-spirited, and neglectful, runs from her duty and travels the world. One day she jumps into a mountain spring to clean herself, muddying the water and disrespecting the spirit that guards it."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Oh good. This sounds stupid already."

Laughing, Zuko continued. "So the spirit, angered with the avatar, summons a swarm of flies to punish her, making the avatar flee. These flies bit her as she ran and soon she fainted from the pain."

"And let me guess," Katara interrupted, "These flies weren't just regular spirit flies. They were _love_ _bugs_ , or so everyone likes to call these little spirits."

"Pretty much. A boy from a nearby mountain village, who always paid his respects to the spirit of the spring, climbed the slopes to fill his canteen. When he found the young avatar and tried to nurse her injuries, she opened her eyes and fell in love with him, completely under the bites' influence."

"So what happened from there?"

"Well, she was completely smitten with him. The boy just so happened to be something of a warrior in his village, the only person foolish enough to fight against a group of bandits terrorizing his home. All the boy had to do was ask the avatar to help him, something that she did very reluctantly in the past."

"Oh, I see where this is going then," said Katara, unimpressed, "So the hopelessly love-struck avatar obeys his request, defeating the bandits and redeeming herself by doing so."

Zuko laughed. "You sure you haven't heard this story before, Katara?"

She shrugged. "Its just that predictable I guess."

"Good point. Eventually the effect wears off in the story. By that time the boy had fallen in love with the avatar too, wanting to marry her and travel with her wherever she went. The avatar, well… she disappeared before he could pop the question. So the boy set out into the world searching for her."

Katara shook her head. "Well, its a good thing this isn't a bad fairy tale, as ridiculous as this whole situation is."

"Yeah… there is _one_ good thing about all this though," admitted Zuko.

"Oh? What's that?" asked Katara.

"Azula doesn't seem… _unhinged_ anymore," he said, managing a smile, "Suki and the other Kyoshi warriors had to get me up in the middle of the night to tell me how she would wake up in a cold sweat, wandering the palace halls and muttering about out mother."

Katara nodded reluctantly, "True. That's probably because of the bites. Might be an _otherworldly_ effect of some kind. Now she's just a _regular_ killer princess."

"I don't understand though. That spirit wolf summoned a swarm of those things. Shouldn't we have been bitten as well?"

"Aang _did_ say that aggravating the swarm by trying to attack it would only make it worse. She's the only one that attacked them."

"All she did was summon lightning to scare them away."

"Well, maybe the lightning hurt a bug. Maybe we just got lucky. All we can do now is deal with her condition and make our way to Hira'a."

Sighing reluctantly Zuko nodded his head, attempting to accept the new circumstances they found themselves in. Things could have been worse after all.

He stood up from his seat by the fire, walking toward his bedroll. "You should rest now, Katara. Its my turn to take watch."

She folded her arms. "Looks to me like you want to go back to sleep."

"Its a bit cold tonight," he said, folding up his blanket, "Sokka and Azula look like they could use this."

Katara grew uneasy at the thought, her face twisting in disgust. "Its not _that_ cold. I'd rather see where she's putting her hands on him."

"You _actually_ want to see where she touches him?" Zuko smirked.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're sick, you know that?"

"I don't like it either, Katara," said Zuko, unfolding the blanket and covering the unlikely pseudo-couple, "But we just have to deal with it. Its like you said, right?"

She sighed. "Fine. Just yell if she does something, okay?"

"I think we'll hear Sokka yell before I can say anything."

Katara stood up from her seat by the fire, making her way to her bedroll. "Great. I won't get much sleep knowing that. Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it."

As Katara bedded down for the night Zuko made sure to tuck the blanket comfortably over his sister's shoulders as he thought a good brother would do. She wasn't even muttering to herself, laying completely still, her lips and nose just grazing the back of Sokka's neck. Whether it was the bug bites or Sokka or a combination of both Zuko couldn't tell, but it all seemed to be a balm on her troubled mind. He couldn't remember seeing her like this before.

Just as he was about to walk away, Zuko realized he forgot to cover her feet with the blanket. A worn and folded letter caught his eye, tucked into her boot.

His heart began to race. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He saw her burn away their mother's letters, turned to ash in her hands. The only shred of information they had in finding her.

Fingers drummed anxiously in his palms. It was tucked so temptingly into her boot, begging to be plucked. His mind raced, ruminating on the reasons as to why his sister would decide to keep this particular scrap of paper.

His hand slowly reached out. He _had_ to know.

Gently he took the letter, eliciting nothing more than a twitch in his sister's foot. Unfolding it, he stood up to read it, holding it to the light as he read voraciously.

He felt the blood drain from his body as he read the last, dreadful lines. "… our _son_?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

As mentioned before, you'll be seeing more of this AU in future installments. As you can probably tell this takes place during "The Search". Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you all in the next update!

If you want more Sokkla romance please check the riveting "Dishonored" by Purpleplatybusbear21. If you're looking for intrigue and conspiracy, then try Clarielparke's excellent "Phoenix Rising".

See you all later!


	13. Pact - ASC Entry, Week One

**A/N:**

Azula Ship Challenge entry from Tumblr. Prompt - Pact. Pairing - Sokka/Azula. Tagged as NSFW.

If you'd like to participate in this challenge, then prompts will be available every Monday until Monday, November 28th. You can check out the list on my Tumblr account or visit PurplePlatypusbear21's or Clarielparke's accounts to get more details as well Please support the writers participating in this challenge. Well encourage all to join in.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the entry!

* * *

 **\- Pact -**

* * *

She awoke to the croon of a rooster and the heavy scent of sweat-soaked sheets.

Sitting up naked on the ruined bed Azula groaned as she rubbed her eyes, adjusting them to the dim light in the room. The harsh glare of sun dappled the emerald colored floor through the patchy blinds, making her flinch as she wondered just how long she'd been sleeping.

She didn't linger on thought for long. Not like she was in a rush to be somewhere.

Incredibly parched, her eyes searched the room until she remembered the bottle of wine close by on the nightstand. Forgoing the goblet flipped over on its side Azula reached for the bottle itself, taking it by the neck and downing what little there was left, the soft burn stirring the senses and rousing her from her groggy state.

She sighed as she set the bottle down on the floor, sinking back against the green pillows, contentment washing over her despite how sore she felt. Azula only had to turn her head to the side to know why.

Sprawled out and shamelessly naked among the stained sheets, with one firm arm draped lazily over his head, Azula fervently drank in her lover's taut and sweaty body. The lower her eyes wandered the more she became aroused, spying a bulging tent just between where his hips were supposed to be, right under the thin sheet covering his waist. She found it wonderfully erotic, fucking him all over again as the events of the night before played out in her mind.

Smirking deviously, Azula silently inched her way closer to him, pressing up against his warm body, a pale cheek resting upon his strong chest. She found his scent impossibly intoxicating, laying a small kiss just above his nipple. An eager hand trailed down to wrench the offending sheet off his waist.

She chuckled as his penis bobbed to attention, freed from its entrapment. "Morning wood, huh?"

She found it amazingly entertaining to see him this hard. The mental pictures crossing his mind as he slept were beyond her of course, although she did feel a bit robbed. Feeling him stiffen under her capable hands was a luxury she infinitely enjoyed, just as he relished getting her wet with his skillful fingers. It was such a turn-on really.

Unfazed, she reached down and curled her slender fingers over his engorged cock, rubbing him gently and insistently at just the right pace. She smiled as he stirred, a little jolt of pleasure coursing through her as he shifted his hips restlessly. She indulged herself a bit, looking up at him to see how he reacted to her touch, her hands deftly gliding down the sensitive underside to fondle his balls.

A strained moan as his closed eyes twitched, a slight hitch in his breath as his mouth hung open. " _Aanh._ "

His voice was as sweet as any melody. Well, perhaps not a song, but it was pleasing to hear regardless.

She nudged up to him as she continued to rub his meaty cock, burying her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the hicky-scarred skin.

Her voice tickled his ear as she whispered softly. "Wake up, Sokka."

She had so much she wanted to say into those cute ears of his. Filthy requests, hidden desires not yet acted upon, unfiltered and intimate. She was already fucking him in her mind a dozen times over, his hands roaming over her body, his thick cock penetrating her orifices in the most desperate ways.

Again she whispered into his ear, the hand rubbing his erect penis picking up speed. "Wake up."

With shallow breaths and a heaving chest his eyes shot open for her, as if roused from a fevered dream. He threw his arm over her head, lifting himself up as he looked around.

His eyes finally settled on her and Azula gave him playful smirk as she rubbed his erection more softly. "Ah, you're finally awake."

He blinked, trying to clear his parched throat as he sat up by his elbows. "I, uh, y-yeah. I'm up."

She smiled up playfully at him. "Hm. Well, that's not the only thing I found that was up."

Again he blinked, slowly shifting his gaze down to his waist as Azula's hand brushed lightly over his glans, making him sigh with pleasure.

The realization made him throw his head back in a fit of laughter. "Oh! Oh spirits, that's what you meant!"

Leaning toward her Sokka pulled her up closer to him and kissed her, firmly anchoring her by his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She hummed into his mouth as they savored each other's lips, prompting Azula to pump her arm just a bit more insistently to keep his cock nice and erect.

As they parted she settled her body cozily next to him, entangling a leg with one of his own as her pubic bone rubbed up against his thigh. With a kiss upon his bruised neck she rested her head next to his as they sank back against the soft green pillows, basking in each other's closeness as idle hands caressed the most desirous parts of their bodies.

Sokka broke the silence with a sigh as his hips shifted anxiously, slightly bucking as Azula continued to rub him off. "You know, I was having the most amazing dream."

She breathed softly, idly playing with the cock in her hand as she rubbed her thumb over the tip. "Mm. Clearly. This thing pitched a camp in your lap with the sheets."

He chuckled. "Hey, I can't help it. Wanna know what it was dreaming about?"

Yellow eyes met his, an eyebrow crooked. "Me of course. Why else would you be this hard?"

"Well, aren't you a psychic," Sokka grinned, kissing her forehead. "Not my fault I get horny when I think about how sexy you are."

"Oh, you poor thing. It must be so difficult for you to walk around with an erection all day then. People must think you hide a club in your pants."

"This is assuming I think about you all the time? In _that_ way?"

She merely shrugged. "It is as you say – you can't help it."

There was brief pause. She looked up at him and found him grinning like the mad fool he was. Mad for her. She found that quite pleasing.

He reached out a hand and captured her chin, turning her head so he could look at her. His lips locked with her in a playful kiss. "You think you're so clever."

She smirked. "Naturally. At least someone here knows it."

Laughing as he shook his head, Sokka willingly kissed her again. She felt something that time. It was a warm and painful glow in her chest that compelled her to hide the blush coloring her cheeks. As he lay back against the pillows she hid her face within the nape of his neck, kissing his ear.

He flinched with delight, her breath tickling his skin. "You sure like to play with my dick don't you?"

Azula rolled her eyes as she continued to do just that. "And what of it?"

He shrugged, blue eyes raking over her smooth pale body. "Oh, nothing. It was just a surprise, that's all."

"Mm. I was surprised too."

He quirked his eyebrow and suddenly Sokka was curious of her tone. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes. I expected you to be… _too tired_. And yet here it is, standing to attention, waiting for another go."

He chuckled, his body vibrating with energy, a hand drifting over her soft round breasts. "I just like the way you make it hard. With your hands, your mouth, even your boobs, I love it all."

At this she was unashamed to smile, rewarding his compliment with soft slow strokes over his cock. "Hm, you like it too much perhaps."

"So what? There's nothing wrong with liking the crap out of what you do to me is there? You touch me and light a fire in me, corny as that sounds. If you want me to apologize for my enthusiasm, well, you're not gonna get it."

There was seriousness behind his playful tone. Again her chest was aglow with a feeling she was still too reluctant to express with words. She chose to address it through action, reluctantly releasing his cock and cupping his tanned cheek in her hand, thumb brushing against his lower lip.

She closed her eyes, reaching up to kiss him square on the mouth. "There's too much sugar in your words, boy. Too sweet for my palate."

"Oh please, sugar is addicting! All it takes is one taste. You think you hide it well, but I can tell," he turned over on his to face her, a finger pointed at her face, "You're hooked."

She went crossed eyed as he tapped her lightly on the nose. She brushed his hand away to a chorus of laughter. "You have food on the brain, peasant! And what's this about comparing yourself to a sweet?"

Sokka considered this for a moment. "I don't know really. The way you we're licking my cock last night sure had me thinking it tasted sweet."

A small glare from yellow eyes cut through his laughter. Thinking he might have said something out of line Sokka tried to find words for an apology, only to be surprised when Azula smiled fiendishly at him, stifling a chuckle.

"Oh peasant. It was quite salty actually," she admitted, nudging his shoulder with her hand as she made him lay on his back, straddling his waist, "No matter. I rather enjoyed the taste of it. I can suck you off much as much you like. Fuck you in ways no girl can. In the end, it all tells me the same thing. You crave me, Sokka. You just can't get enough of what I can do to you."

He stared up at her naked body, drinking in her raw beauty. From the curves of her hips to the rosy pink nipples of her voluptuous breasts and up passed her hicky-strewn neck to her ravishing ember eyes Sokka was positively awe-struck.

"O-Oh," he stuttered, taken back her forwardness as he managed an awkward smile, "Well, you got me there. Shit, you're amazing you know that?"

"Mmm. So I've been told," she smirked, beckoning him to sit up with her finger, "Come now, peasant. I want to tell you something."

Curious, he raised himself up by his arms as Azula shifted in his lap, his hardon pressed teasingly against her pubic bone. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking into his deep blue eyes, as if pondering the mysteries of the sea.

"You were going to apologize for what you said earlier weren't you," she stated, "I could tell. So quick to go back on your word."

He seemed to deflate in her arms with a sour look on his face. "I didn't say it to demean you. What you do to me with your body, its... no other girl was willing to do all that. Not Suki or anyone that came after her. I just want you to know that I… that I _love_ you and all those things you do."

Azula drew a blank; her was face devoid of emotion as she tried desperately to snuff out the flame consuming her battered soul. She breathed in through her nose as her heart drummed against her chest. His words were like an unexpected balm. A laugh, a drink, a partnership made, a stolen glance, a kiss in the dark, all that intimacy despite the gnawing pain of a forbidden desire for companionship unexpectedly bore her fruit.

She had no words for the moment, calmly breathing in and concealing another smile with a deep kiss, a hand carding through the loose strands of his hair. If only there was some power to convey what she was thinking through the locking of lips.

She parted reluctantly, finding her courage. "Never feel sorry for something like that, Sokka. It is as you say – never apologize for your enthusiasm for me, for how I make you feel. Embrace it, be proud of it, for I love all the ways you make me feel too."

The words that rolled off her tongued shocked even her. His eyes boggled out from their sockets. "R-Really? I… wow, its actually nice of you to say that."

She pressed on. "I love the way you go down on me you know. How you throw me on the bed and eat me out like you're some starving animal. How you fuck me with your tongue and your fingers all at once. I get wet every time just _anticipating_ it."

Surprised at the revelation, Azula was infinitely pleased to find he reciprocated that feeling. "Heh, I do admit I get a bit too eager. Its just so fun hearing you moan. You just taste so good. I can eat you out forever, I swear I'll never get tired of it."

As if to reinforce his point he stuck out his tongue and rapidly flicked it against his upper front teeth, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. Her grin was wide, chuckling at his face and finding his gesture strangely arousing.

"That pleases me to hear," she admitted, infinitely satisfied, "I love it when you're inside me too. Spirits, you drive me _crazy_ with that cock of yours."

"So I've heard," Sokka said, grinning sheepishly as he feigned picking his ear with a pinkie.

"My ass, my pussy, I don't fucking care where you put it. I just want it, Sokka," she continued, "I just want you to fuck me until my eyes roll back into my head, until I can't stand."

There was glint in his eyes, an unmistakable hint of passion surging through him that resonated out into his loins, hardening him even more. She assumed he was just turned on by her honesty, but there was something else at play.

He nodded eagerly. "All right then! Tell you what, I'll swear on it. Like a swordsman to his vows I'll swear on this, Azula!"

"Oh? An oath? To what vow will you swear by?"

A wide grin was plastered on his face. "One I can actually get behind for a change."

Perplexed by his eagerness Azula slid off of Sokka's lap as he got out of bed. Rummaging through the room and tossing aside the pants and tunics strewn across the floor he finally came across his sword. He grinned at her as he unsheathed it, making his way back toward the bed.

"What has gotten into you Sokka?" she sighed irritably. "What do you plan to do with that?"

"I'm gonna make my vow," he smiled, "Its all theatrics right? I've seen actors do this in plays, like that one story about how three men became oath brothers to fight injustice after eating a couple of rotten peaches. They raised their swords into the air all heroic like and bam! Official vow."

"You can't be serious about this, can you?"

He chuckled. "Well, I am being a bit silly about it. I mean, I'm in the nude, I have no incense to burn, and I definitely don't know any prayers to offer up to the spirits. You need that to help make your oath official, right?"

Azula rolled her eyes as she sat off the edge of the bed. "True, but only nobles and gentlemen of valor can take on a vow. And you're neither of those things."

He smirked. "Fortunately. C'mon Azula I know it's a silly thing I'm doing. Think of it more as a promise I'm making to you personally, and then making way more dramatic than it has to be."

He was persistent if anything. It couldn't hurt though. She was definitely amused with the ridiculous lengths he was willing go to make his lewd parody of a vassal's oath come true.

She relented with a casual shrug, resting back on her arms as she crossed her legs. "All right, I'll indulge you. You may continue with your ludicrous ceremony, _my lord_."

Chuckling at her remark, Sokka cleared his throat and dramatically puffed out his chest, standing erect as he hoisted his sword toward the ceiling.

"I, Sokka, swear by all the heavens and the earth, and upon my life, to be dirty, raw, honest, and unfiltered, to make my lady's cheeks flush red from my words, to make her body squirm with desire, and to always fuck her good and to make her smile."

Azula for her part put her hand over her chest, feigning a genuine smile. "Oh, brilliant! Just brilliant! I'm absolutely _touched_! I'm just _so emotional_ right now, I may just cry my guts out."

Sokka chuckled as he lowered his sword, sheathing it as he set it aside. He then knelt in front of Azula, going on one knee as he placed his hands over her bare slender legs, lazily resting upon them.

He smiled. "Joking aside though, there's some truth to that. I'm going to give it my all for you, Azula. Until you're eyes pop out of your head or until you can't walk, I am going to fuck you like you deserve. I promise."

She regarded him steadily, gauging the weight of his words as she looked into those impossibly blue eyes of his. As her mind raced ahead of her she gave a little fiendish look, tilting her head as she reached out a hand to brush aside the loose strands of his hair.

"And just how do I deserve to be fucked, Sokka?" she said, her thumb brushing across his lower lip.

A dark smile crossed his face and he vibrated sinisterly against her palm as he chuckled. Gently taking her hand away from his face he slowly stood up in front of her, firm and imposing. A little jolt of excitement passed through her, tinged with anticipation. His throbbing cock protruded in front of her face, greeting her with its obscene girth as she leaned back her head to properly regard it. Naughty yellow eyes drifted up his body to meet his own. She found the smug look she gave her incredibly arousing.

His hand lunged forward to push her down onto the bed, her hair falling over her eyes as she plopped onto her back. Strong arms roughly pulled her hips forward until she could feel his hardon between her defenseless open legs. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest from the sudden thrill and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing her pussy against his cock.

He leaned over her to lock her wrists in his capable grip over her head, grinning like a savage. "I'm going to fuck you like the little decadent bitch you are."

Her grin was wild. She loved it when he talked like that. It set her heart ablaze with desire.

She answered him in kind. "Then what the fuck are you waiting for, peasant? Let me hear you howl like the savage you are."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Again, If you'd like to participate in the #AzulaShipChallenge on Tumblr, then prompts will be available every Monday until November 28th. You can check out the list on my Tumblr account or visit PurplePlatypusbear21's or Clarielparke's accounts to get more details. On prompts. Please support the writers participating in this challenge. Well encourage all to join in.

If you'd like to see more stories being submitted for this challenge, then read PurplePlatypusBear21's "Cold When Your Not Around", a brand new Jetzula story where Jet seeks revenge against the Fire Nation. If BroTPs are more your thing for this challenge, then read Clarielparke's "No Suitable Job for a Princess", where June and Azula strike up a partnership as the princess becomes a bounty hunter.

Hope you enjoyed and I'll you in the next installment!


	14. Lightning Strikes - ASC Entry, Week Two

**A/N:**

Azula Ship Challenge entry from Tumblr. Prompt - Lightning Strikes. Pairing - Sokka/Azula. Tagged SFW.

This is entry number two for the Azula Ship Challenge. If you'd like to participate, then prompts will be available every Monday until Monday, November 28th. You can check out the list on my Tumblr account or visit PurplePlatypusbear21's or Clarielparke's accounts to get more details as well. Please support the writers participating in this challenge.

Anyway, enjoy the entry!

* * *

 **\- Lightning Strikes -**

* * *

Her eyes were amber. In all his life Sokka had never seen something like that. He understood, of course, that such eyes existed. Scrolls penned by hardscrabble merchants and journals written by literate soldiers spoke of women and men with fire in their hearts, the souls of dragons made manifest in human form, passionate as they were brutal. He had seen paintings too, of murals scrawled onto old walls with a thousand gold-painted eyes glaring into a black abyss, wildfires bending to the will of their masters.

And yet it was such a shock to Sokka. He had never expected to gaze upon her oval face to see the sun shining in her eyes. They were so bright, so amazingly invigorating.

Her skin was pale, covered in crimson and inlaid with gold. His mind instantly thought of snow and bone and ivory, but they were cold and hard and dead to him, a harsh reminder of his barren homeland. All he thought about was feeling finger to finger, palm to palm, to feel the warmth of her beautiful skin and to know unfathomable pleasure.

Her hair was black, crowned by a gold hairpiece. Darker than a warm and moonless summer night, soft as silk and combed with care. It fell in a long curtain behind her back, brushing against the black steel of her armor.

Sokka didn't believe in love at first sight, of two people meeting for the first time and dedicating their entire lives to each other. That was a thing for fairy tales and bedtimes stories. The ways of this island nation had hardened him to expect nothing more than the fleeting moments of lust, craving it like a drug.

And yet she struck him hard; this lightning bolt from a clear sky. He would search for the secrets of passion just to hear her voice in his ear, to stab a man in the back if it meant standing closer to her. If he could have her, then he'd want her forever.

There were others that wanted her too, sons of men with noble names stretching back into the heroic past of the Fire Nation, when the islands were unified under one flag by the victorious few. Sons with money and clout and fair skin like hers. Sokka had only the backing of a respected gentleman to lend him any status. That, and a sword made by his own hand, tempered with the blood of bandits and rebels. He was nothing more than a castaway plucked from the sea and given a home, a boy without a family and without a shred of nobility.

And yet he was given a chance, if anything to humor the princess and lend variety to the plethora of suitors coveting her. If she knew about his service to her country she wasn't letting on. The ways in which drunken bandits and petty rebels could die would hardly impress her. They were not the contemptible opponents requiring skill and valor that excited the imagination. Compared to her deeds, he was woefully unremarkable.

They walked among the trimmed bushes and red pagodas of the royal gardens, shadowed by faceless guardsmen and leering courtiers whispering behind little fans. Sokka could feel their hateful eyes raking over his back. He tried not to care about it too much, walking with as much dignity as he could.

He looked upon her with as little bashfulness as he was able to muster, trying to catch her eye with a smile, to show her she was worth it, but there was a gnawing feeling in his heart that choked his confidence. She was beyond him. He had never felt so out of place, not since he washed up on the black sand shores of the Fire Nation, with the scent of the sea heavy in his bloodied nose. The pleasant aroma of her perfume teased his senses in place of that foul scent and he yearned to be closer to her.

Again he glanced her way, hoping to see her beautiful eyes, but she spared him no such luxury. She merely strutted at a deliberate pace, arms crossed behind her, the slightest pinch of her soft red lips betraying some apparent disgust.

He couldn't blame her. While she quietly contemplated the strange turn of events that brought a foreigner to her, Sokka attempted to talk. He had no idea what to say to her though, or even if it was acceptable for him to speak first. He felt as if he was balancing on a fragile tightrope of courtly manners and protocol, of which he had little practice in. One word out of place would mean social suicide.

He swallowed his fear and cleared his throat, attempting to talk with as much false grace as an actor would. "I… understand if my presence here is unusual, your highness."

She stirred at his voice, her eyes flickering to life as her cheeks turn a light red. Sokka didn't know what to make of that. Perhaps she was embarrassed that someone like him would address her so brashly.

Stifling the unease in his heart, he crossed his arms behind him. "I'm an oddity I imagine, a savage from a strange land playing dress-up and pretending to be civilized. I understand if you find me intolerable to be around. Rest assured, your highness, your patience with me is much appreciated and I am most grateful for it."

Her eyes narrowed, sparing him an inscrutable glance. "Hm. Indeed."

Sokka blinked, nodding to himself. "Indeed."

They walked in silence for a time. Sokka tried to keep his fingers from drumming nervously in his hands, attempting to smile as he took in his surroundings. He tried to speak again, but every time he opened his mouth he felt more like an idiot. As they walked he had the dreadful impression that the faintest hint of her smiles were only meant to humor him. He could only imagine how strenuous it was to be around him, a commoner flirting with the idea of becoming ennobled.

Sokka just hoped he didn't sound as stupid as he thought, that her cryptic glances and little smiles were somehow signs of genuine interest in him. It was a pleasant lie of course, something to give him hope, no matter how false it was.

He knew better of course. He would never stand a chance of courting her.

But then she stopped. It caught him off guard and he had to halt mid-step just to turn and face her.

"What is it?" he asked.

And that's when he saw it. At first she seemed reluctant, but her quick glances soon turned into a piercing amber gaze. He could have sworn the blush on her cheeks were as red as her robes.

"Your eyes," she stated, with as much courage as she could muster, "They're blue."

* * *

 **A/N:**

When out of that orange colored sky... flash! Bam! Ala-kazam! Wonderful you came by!

Hope you enjoyed the entry! If you'd like to read more stories related to this challenge, please check out "Cold When You're Not Around" and "No Better Job for a Princess" by PurplePlatypusBear21 and Clarielparke, respectively. For entries relating to this challenge with Sokkla, check out Seyary-Minamto's short stories on Tumblr under the #AzulaShipChallenge tag.

I'll see you all for the next installment!


	15. Dragons and Desires - Dragon Mother

**A/N:**

An entry for Salixj on Tumblr, as a response to a post she made about Azula, Sokkla, and dragons.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **\- Dragons and Desires -**

* * *

Tenderly, he rubbed the little dragon's head with the tip of his finger, hard deep-blue scales scraping at his skin. Sokka couldn't deny a measure of uncertainty and fear, but this was only a little thing, a tiny, mischievous, and endearing version of what could one day become a fire-breathing terror of the skies.

Perhaps that was why he intentionally regarded the little blue dragon with as much respect as he could, rubbing its horned head between its piercing gold eyes in such a manner as to admire it rather than demean it.

From the shoulder of its red-cladded mistress it gave a piercing screech, nudging its head up into his palm and squirming excitedly. Sokka blinked, taken back by its sudden affection and breathing with much relief.

"Wow. It… it likes me I guess?"

Azula smiled imperiously at him, stroking the little blue dragon's long scaly tail rather idly. "It would seem he does. Perhaps he sees you as his next meal. He's known to eat things larger than him after burning them to a crisp."

"Uh-huh. I'll keep that in mind then," Sokka admitted nervously, hoping she was only joking. "What's his name?"

She twirled the little dragon's tail as if it was a length of her hair, eyeing the boy intently as she followed the way his palm caressed her dragon's head. "Jinshen. Do you like the color of his scales?"

"Yeah, they're nice actually!" he said, choosing his words carefully, " Kind of reminds me of the skin of a shark-toothed whale. Blue on the back, running from its head to its tail and a white belly underneath."

"Would you say that's intimidating then?"

"Definitely. If the waters around the south are feared for what lies below the waves, then the skies above the Fire Nation should be feared for these things."

Her eyes glowed with pride. "Indeed. And they are. Blue is a rather rare color for dragons you know. Most people prefer red I suppose, like my brother and mother. Its a very common shade of you ask me."

"I see…"

"Mine absolutely _enjoys_ torturing the prince. It chirps when it sets fire to his robes."

"Which prince is that?"

"Well, my brother of course! The sixth prince doesn't have a fondness for my little one here. I couldn't care less what he thinks. He spends all his time coddling his like a wounded runt, that small red eyesore with the chipped antler. It'll never grow strong that way."

"Yours is quite intimidating then, huh?"

"Indeed. I'm glad you think so. You should feel quite honored that you can even pet his head," she said. "Mine… doesn't allow many to touch him. He doesn't like many people either."

"Well, I imagine its only because the owner allows me to pet him, right? Then he thinks I'm okay?" he smiled.

She merely rolled her eyes, stifling a blush. "I'm not his owner. I'm something more akin to a mother or even a partner. I must respect him. One day I will ride him into battle, to fight my enemies, and only because he allows me to. Very few understand that connection."

"I guess you understand it pretty well then."

"Well of course I do! You are in the presence of the fifth princess of the empire, it is expected that I know such things, even if I were not to have a dragon as my bonded companion."

Sokka nodded his head, taking his hand away from the dragon as it chirped enthusiastically. "Right, right. So do all the princes get dragons too?"

She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "Only if they are found worthy by the dragons themselves. You have no doubt heard of my cousin's dragon. Zhongteng was the bane of the Yuyan rebels during the Yingzui Uprising. Lu Ten, with only a small expeditionary force, laid them to waste."

"Yeah, I've heard. Black scales, red eyes, and a steel gray belly. In the south we have a nickname for her: Lusa."

Her curiosity piqued, Azula regarded the tribal boy carefully. "Hm. Interesting. If I'm not mistaken that means 'midnight' where you come from."

"That's right. People tell the tales of Lusa and Prince Lu Ten in ways that make you think of the Long Night, when food is scarce and monsters prowl the tundra, hidden by the snow and dark. Sends a deep chill down your spine."

She nodded slowly, arching up her hand to gently scratch her dragon's chin as it waggled its head. "I see. Its a fitting name then. Lusa is a fearsome beast. She has been on many campaigns with the prince across this empire."

Sokka tilted his head, perplexed as his hands went to his hips. "I always find it interesting that no one here calls the Fire Nation the 'Fire Nation'."

Azula shrugged. "Foreigners rarely understand that the royal family rules over many different people groups within the island chain, all with a some sense of identity and independence. The Yuyan, The Shi, The T'au, the Kurgan, all of the them fall under the red banner of the empire."

"Reminds me of the Earth Kingdom. Or _kingdoms_ I guess. All the other kings, from Omashu to Taku, swear fealty to the king in Ba Sing Se, but they get to call the shots when it comes to managing their lands."

She was surprised. "Yes. And if the kings do not pay their tribute to the king of kings in Ba Sing Se, then they will be punished. It is the same here. The lords of the islands sometimes find our taxes unreasonable."

He gave her clever, questioning look. "Are they unreasonable?"

"To some they are unreasonable. There is enough unrest brewing among the few rebellious lords to warrant severe punishment. Ungrateful traitors, the lot of them."

Grimly, silencing his misgivings for the time being, Sokka chose his next words carefully, playing the delicate game of words and manners. "Your dragon will grow strong then, if you want him to help you. He'll be big enough for you to ride. Maybe one day my people will have a nickname for him too. Tell stories of his power and might."

She didn't answer him at first. The princess seemed content to merely caress her dragon's scaly head, lost in thought as she contemplated a uncertain future dedicated to war and political machinations.

At last she nodded, her voice distant. "Yes. I should like that very much."

"Should? I imagine you _will_ like it! You'll be in it too. A dragon without its rider makes for a very dull story in the south. Then they start thinking it's a beast that ought to be killed by a slayer."

She chuckled. "It will take more than fire and steel to pierce a dragon's hide, I assure you."

"Ah, no doubt!"

Her eyes met his and Sokka could swear he saw a fire behind that amber glow, a warm and intoxicating look that could melt the hearts of men. "And you? Where will you be in those stories?"

His eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that at all. "Uh, me? Nowhere. Who wants to hear about some son of a chief of the Inupiaq Tribe? We're few and don't have a place to call home, seeing as how the bigger tribes pushed us into the sea."

The little blue dragon gave a small screech and Azula calmed it with pat on the head. "It would seem the water tribes of the south war amongst each other as ever."

"Yeah, too little to go around. A few get big and powerful, to claim good hunting grounds. Sons of the Avanersauq Tribe or daughters of the Tunumitt Tribe though… those are tales to hear. Worthy of great halls, even here in the Fire Nation."

What seemed to him a subtle smile soured into a noticeable frown. "Hrm. Perhaps you're right. Noble men and women with names worthy to be counted as equals among the gentry of the empire."

His heart sank as she uttered those words. They may as well have been daggers.

And she surprised him yet again. "You must make a name for yourself then, Sokka of the Inupiaq."

He regarded her carefully, unsure of what to make of her. "How?"

She smiled, already a step ahead of him. "Is that not why you are here? To implore me to allow you to join my retinue, right? We have need of men like you in the empire, to ensure its longevity, and the Inupiaq have need of a home. "

"You have a dragon. What good can I be to you?"

Again she smiled, a dark, indecipherable intent hidden behind a face of regal beauty. "Yes, but he is still small. Loyal service to the empire ensures handsome rewards. A dragon is a hammer, powerful and terrible on the battlefield. For the delicate games of the court, I may require a dagger."

The lure of it all was tempting. For too long had Sokka known the frigid air of the southern seas, the salty spray of the water against his face as his feet shifted across the ever-rocking deck of barnacle-infested ships. He had heard the splash of diseases-ridden bodies committed to the cold deep too many times, had seen the lifeless faces of friends and family pass under rotting canvas shrouds and grew sick of it.

And that soft oval face, that supple body clad behind crimson robes and obsidian armor, those eyes touched by the sun… she seeped into his dreams, desire clawing at his weary heart for the warmth of a girl he could never have thought existed in his wildest fantasies. He longed to feel her skin against his, to know the feeling of her lips trail across his body and to hear her voice panting in his ear.

"It would be wise not refuse me, Sokka," she stated, frowning at him. "I only offer this opportunity once. Your sister is worthy, I have no doubt a water-bender may be of service to us, but you and I know she lacks the… _qualities_ need for the tasks I have planned. Your service will be much… _appreciated_."

He squared his shoulders and straightened his posture, moved by her words. "All right. I'm in. What do you want from me?"

Her smile was as it cryptic as it was seductive. He cut such a striking figure to her, the boy in blue with the smile as sweet as honey. How she longed to feel lips like his, to know the feeling of his firm hands caressing her body among silken red sheets, toying with her with reckless abandon.

Her words were measured and deliberate. "What indeed. What _shall_ I do with you?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hope you enjoyed that one! A bigs thank to Salixj for the inspiration behind this little piece. I like dragons and Sokkla too. If only there was a way to combine them.

I'll see you all in the next installments, with continuations for the Love Bug AU and the Azula Ship Challenge! See you then!


	16. Solace - Entry by Seyary-Minamoto

**A/N:**

A disclaimer: the following work was not done by me. A special thank you goes to Seyary-Minamoto for writing this short flash-fiction, as well as permission to post this here. This was a paid story commission, which included an accompanying art piece.

I hope you enjoy her work here as much I did!

* * *

 **\- Solace -**

* * *

Coldness had hardened her heart. She had seen things, fought monsters, the worst of them in her own mind. She had been feared, she had been hated, she had been betrayed. Loneliness was her only companion, for a long time.

She did not think the day would come when that would change. When someone would patch up her wounds, inside and out, and give her a chance to finally experience something, anything, other than the misery and chaos that had taken over her life.

It had happened before she realized it, before she could understand it. One of her missions saw her joining forces with him by chance, for they had sought the same outcome, and together they had succeeded where many others had failed.

A subtle, begrudging respect had grown between them. The barrier she still held between herself and everyone else had been lowered for him, though not completely. Trusting him with her life would take much more than just this, or so she had thought.

But as doubts arose in her heart, as uncertainties pooled and brought her to doubt him, Azula knew she didn't fear that he was merely an agent of Zuko's, sent to keep an eye on his sister.

No, her true fear was that Sokka might be doing it out of his own volition. That he would have thought he could form a permanent, real bond with her. And she feared that she was too broken, too damaged, to give him the friendship he desired from her.

Losing him would be more painful than anything she had ever faced. Losing him could mean her hard fought mental balance would disappear, for she couldn't fathom seeing another loved one disappear without being able to do anything about it.

So she had fought, tooth and nail, to avoid that. Against her better judgment, knowing he was better off with his other friends, knowing he deserved better than her, she had given her everything to fight and defend, to stand by his side whenever he might need her.

She had put her life on the line for him, and he had been dismayed, horrified after he helped heal her, upon the prospect of losing her, too. Didn't Sokka know his life was far more valuable than hers? Didn't he know he had more to live for than she did?

But his concern had moved her. She smiled at him for the first time when he was yelling, telling her to never put herself in such danger again. Did he not know he was the first person to ever want her safety in this way? It seemed so.

She hadn't heeded his words, still jumping between him and every possible threat to his life whenever they fought their enemies together. Yet while they were apart she made sure to survive, one way or another. She needed to live to see him once again, no matter what.

The first scar, the one on her lips, had been a threat gone too far. The man responsible hadn't lived much longer than that after he'd dared harm her: a black blade had been impaled across his chest for it, and blue eyes had glowed with rage at the enemy's blood.

The second scar, on her eyebrow, came from shoving Sokka away from a knife-thrower. The blade had spun and slashed her, and yet again, the one to do it had paid for it dearly. He had healed her later, but she hadn't smiled this time.

She didn't want to make him more like her. It wasn't fair to him: she always lost herself to the darkness, but she didn't want him to follow her there. That realization had brought her to cry, and he had held her that night, without understanding her tears.

But in time, Azula realized she wasn't quite corrupting him: he was pulling her into his light just the same, by bringing her dead heart to beat with wonder once again. By making her believe there was something worth living for after all.

With her ripped, blood-stained clothes, with her unhealed scars, with the days of journeying weighing on her, she had stumbled into the White Lotus campsite late at night to find him. And he had been waiting, relived to see her alive, even if she wasn't unharmed, yet again.

Long gone were the days when he would scold her, when he would lose himself to worry whenever she was hurt: he knew now, in his line of work, that it could seldom be avoided. He settled for knowing she had survived the threats and returned to him, as she had tonight.

In the dark, as all slept but them, the warmth of the fireplace wasn't what melted her heart's cold exterior and brought back the flames she had long lost. In her darkness, she found his light would shine far more brightly than ever before.

He had darkened his soul, becoming more like her, and lightened hers, as she became more like him. Their lives were entwined, their hearts beating together, at a pace with which they could both feel at ease.

Two children, born to a world at war, had turned the tides and found the unthinkable with each other. Two souls that were never meant to walk the same road together, had been brought to share battlefields with each other.

Nobody else knew of them, and nobody would. Their dalliances were a secret, one they protected with every ounce of their willpower. The two of them belonged in this secret life, in this balance between dark and light, between truths and lies, between lost and found.

But when it was just the two of them, it was easy to forget all the pain. When it was just them, it was easy to put aside all conflict. When it was just them, two lives that had been led in a world at war finally had found a kind of peace of their own making.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Again, this entry was written by Seyary-Minamoto. With her permission this has been posted here for reading. If you'd like to commission her you can do so through DeviantArt or pledge to become a patron on . If you'd like to read more of her work, please check out "Gladiator" or "The Reason" for more Sokkla stories.

Hope you enjoyed this special installment!


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